Gundam SEED: Fractured Destinies
by AnadiusObserver
Summary: When an unknown machine is discovered on an uncharted world, the course of history is changed forever. Starts out During the second bloody valentine war, which will become the first contact war. Idea belongs to PathKeeper.
1. PHASE 0: Prologue 1 :Dawn of Tomorrow

**First off, i want to give thanks to PathKeeper, who inspired me to write my own Gundam Seed/Mass Effect crossover, and who gave me the idea to have the first contact war as a backdrop to start off with before going into the games. So credit goes to PathKeeper as well. THANK YOU!**

**Disclaimer: i do not own mass effect or gundam seed, their respective characters, or anything else besides OC's, OT(original technology) and OMS' (original mobile suits) Mass Effect and their respective characters, locations and universe belong to BioWare and is licensed by EA Games. Gundam SEED, Gundam SEED Destiny ****and their respective characters, locations and universe** belong to sunrise, Inc. and is licensed by **Namco/Bandai entertainment, and Madman entertainment. **

**If i missed anyone, please let me know!  
**

**NOTE: when a page break has (0), it means a time lapse. When it has (v), it means instantaneous switch-over from point-to-point.(Something else from PathKeeper- REALLY hope you don't mind. send me the message, i'll change it immediately.)  
**

* * *

** PHASE 0: Prologue/ Dawn of tomorrow**

Codex entry: the Aegohr expedition fleet.  
_  
In 2146 CE (citadel council galactic standard time), as citadel space grew, it's subsequent infrastructure expanded, citing the need to began charting new systems within the still-virgin attican traverse and skyllian verge. However, fearing the discovery of a new hostile race, as was with the insectoid rachni, or the overly vicious yhag, such endeavors are usually wishful thinking, or never get off the planing stage._

_However, after the batarian government contracted the salarian union to aid in legally expanding their territory in the verge , the scout probes dispatched through a as of yet unexplored mass relay within the Kite's nest, home system of the batarians, discovered a new cluster with several very promising worlds for colonization, and the batarians immediately began building up the capitol to fund a colonization effort._

_However, not willing to risk encountering another hostile species like the rachni, the citadel council voted to have their own exploration team sent out to chart the new cluster first, much to the chagrin of the batarians, who feared that the council would use the opportunity to steal the new cluster and it's seemingly idyllic virgin colony worlds, right out from under them._

_In a compromise, several batarian researchers would accompany the salarian scientists and asari scholars on the expedition, along with a turian escort fleet, in case of the possibility of hostile contact. The fleet departed from the salarian home system, the Annos basin, and entered the relay mid-2148 on it's six-month journey to explore the new cluster._

* * *

PROLOGUE – 1

* * *

Aerlan was bored.

Nothing else could better describe the gnawing, burning desire he felt to do nothing else other then bang his head against the wall until his flange split and his skull collapsed. It certainly would be more interesting then his current assignment.

_'What was that again?'_ he thought to himself sarcastically. _'oh! That's right. LOOKING AT SPACE DUST TILL I LOSE MY MIND!'_

He looked at the reflection of himself – a typical turian, long, three fingered arms. two- toed, double- jointed avian legs. metallic carapace. head crests stretching out from under the brow plate of his leathery, distinctly avian face, painted in orange markings that arced across his flanged crests and down the mandibles on either side of his fanged jaw – in the transparent window that looked out on the star that had recently been charted out by the turian patrols, helping a "next-gen" salarian exploration vessel chart out new territory outside their space as a "favor" for the batarians.

After YEARS of negotiations, politics, salarian swindling and back-room deals, they usually had ended in failure. This **should **have been the same, but certain...circumstances had changed that this time around.

After all, the council **never **did **ANYTHING **without an ulterior motive.

This time, the cluster they had found sat on an inactive primary relay that according to their calculations, would, when active, connect to the Annos basin, home-system of the salarians, and provide a direct link between it and the batarian home-system, the Kite's nest.

Which would allow the batarians free access to the salarian homeworld for a surprise attack, and vice-versa for the batarians.

And both species were naturally suspicious.

And both thought waiting for someone to cast the first stone was a foolish mistake.

And both preferred to be the ones to strike first.

A political nightmare of a time-bomb waiting to happen.

They could not afford to risk waiting until "rouge elements" of either government powered it up and started another galaxy-wide war.

Which was why they had finally gotten the permission to launch a new exploratory ship to chart the realy, provided that it be under **constant watch**. They did NOT want ANOTHER rachni wars.

Also as part of the agreement, the turians, as members of the citadel council and close allies of the salarians, were to have no less then four cruisers escort the team should any species they encounter be hostile – a precaution that been in effect ever since that **disaster **with the yhag just over twenty-three years ago – not to mention watch if the batarians tried anything.

And he had been **ever so lucky, **that he had been conscripted to be part of it.

'_Y__eah, lucky me', _ he thought.' _sitting on a hand grenade just **waiting **to go off, and nothing to do except eat, sleep, get ordered around by some batarians who think there in charge, and watch a bunch of salarians, and some asari piss themselves every time they find a space-dust cloud, _He paused. _'Oh, my mistake, Positively charged ion storm- class nebula', _he thought irritably, remembering what that stuck-up salarian Calos had said when he'd commented on one.

There was a chime on the comm.

"_Staff sergeant Aerlan Tavis, Report to the CIC immediately." _

He tapped the comm pad on his terminal and replied "Right away Lieutenant Abrudas," he said, turning and heading through the door and toward the lift.

He got on, along with another turian, Jennis.

She was cute. A real looker – by turian standards.

But he'd never have a chance. He was in navigation, she was in engineering, several decks apart, and she loved missions like this, while he preferred active missions on the border territory, near the terminus.

Not to mention that her aunt was Lieutenant Abrudas, and her, he did NOT like.

The lift stopped at the CIC with a '_ping_', the doors opening, as Aerlan stepped onto the Combat Information Center.

The commander, Augustus Victus – an up and coming star in the hierarchy, true to his family name -, stood on the rail overlooking the galaxy map. To his relative left, Abrudas stood at her station as second-in-command, though she turned around to address the two.

Jennis was first to speak, talking to her aunt in customary military fashion. "You wanted to see me, Lieutenant?"

"Yes," she said "there is a gunnery coordination & control station that was shorted out in the ion storm, when we discharged back at Halegeuse, before we left the salarian home-system. It's been out of sync ever since, and the fried conductors are causing feedback in nearby systems." she pointed further down the room, towards the cockpit/flight control. "I'd like it looked at before we cross into the relay. Spirits knows what we'll find on the other side and I don't want to take chances."

"Yes, ma'am," Jennis said, giving her aunt a salute and smile, before heading off toward the terminal in question.

Abrudas then turned to face Aerlan. "And you," she said curtly,"get on your station. We'll be heading through the relay in one standard hour, and I need everyone at their post."

Aerlan gave a weary salute, and headed off to his station. Abrudas had never liked him much. Even more so, when she thought he was giving wandering glances at her niece – witch he **was**, but that was just art appreciation, witch of course, she did not take kindly to.

Him telling her that it was no different then how most races think of asari – nice to look at, but not interested in anything permanent – witch had led to **another** argument about why he thought her niece "Wasn't good enough for him". He'd had to explain THAT, and everything just spiraled downhill from there.

Since then, Abrudas did not have any liking for Aerlan.

And he felt the same.

He drearily plopped into his seat, and started prep for the jump.

_'Another dull day staring at blank readouts, barren, uncharted worlds and empty space', _he thought.

_'Still, who knows? Maybe we'll find something, at least SOMEWHAT, exciting out here'_

* * *

_ PAGE BREAK(o)_

* * *

"**Attention all hands," **Commander Victus' voice announced over the intercom. **"We will be entering the relay in five standard minutes. All hands, prepare for full alert. Repeat, all hands, prepare for full alert."**

The four cruisers formed up around the salarian expedition ship, centering around it in a four-point diamond formation, prepping for possible enemy contact, as the small flotilla began it's final approach towards the now activated mass relay. The giant, ancient tuning fork-like structure, soon to be looming over them, twin mass 'wheels' spinning in the frame gyroscopically, as they generated the mass effect field, that would soon propel them to the ,as of yet, unexplored regions of the galaxy. Augustus Victus looked at the display.

_Contact in 00:04:00 Standard minutes _

He turned to the left."Abrudas! Status report."

"All hands at ready positions for full alert. All systems are go, sir."

He nodded. "And the other ships?" he asked.

"Ready and able, sir," she replied crisply."We're just waiting on the signal from the Aegohr."

_'All right,'_ he thought."Excellent." He looked across the CIC, seeing the elation in some in being part of history in the making, others quaking in fear at what they might find- another horror like the rachni, or some monster race straight out of nightmare legend, like the fabled "collectors".

And others just sat in their chairs in blissful ignorance, completely unaware that these might be their last moments alive.

He took another look at the display.

_Contact in 00:03:00 Standard minutes_

The console beeped an acknowledgment as, after several tense minutes, the anticipated – and dreaded - signal, finally reached the ship computer.

"Sir, we have the confirmation signal from the Aegohr," Abrudas announced."They are ready and waiting to proceed."

Victus took a deep breath and exhaled quietly, as he took one last look at the CIC, and at the faces of those whose lives they placed willingly in his hands. Those who trusted him with unwavering loyalty.

He would make sure it was not misplaced.

He glanced at the display reading.

_Contact in 00:02:00 standard minutes_

He gave the order."Take us in lieutenant."

She saluted him briefly "Yes, sir," she said, turning around toward the rest of the CIC.

"All hands, ahead!" she called out. "Prepare for jump!"

"YES MA'AM!" came the response from all stations on the CIC, as they sprang to life. Everyone now bustled about their stations, calling out readouts, coordinating communications, optimizing weapons systems, computing trajectories and synchronizing kinetic barriers, preparing for any eventuality.

"Staff sergeant Tavis! Are we prepped?." Abrudas called out.

Aerlan Tavis called back, "Approach vector is set. All systems are go, repeat, all systems are go."

Victus tapped on the galaxy map interface, zooming the map in on the system they were in now, then calling up the target system – estimated via scout probes to be a vibrant yellow star, somewhere in a small cluster close to the edge of batarian space.

Victus looked at the display, now located in the upper- right corner of the map screen.

_Contact in 00:01:00 standard minutes_

From then on, the timer counted down in seconds.

The ships, now displayed on the map grid, as four triangle-icons centered around a rectangular- icon, now nearing the "jump-zone" of the still-unexplored mass relay. The comm crackled to life, as one by one, the other ships gave confirmation of status.

After several seconds, as Victis tensely watched the clock, Abrudas finished checking on confirmation."All ships are holding steady, sir." she reported, as the last ship called in.

_Contact in 00:00:30 standard seconds _

"Proceed forward," he said. "Take us through."

Abrudas continued to call out orders, to the rest of the CIC, as Victus counted the seconds.

"Now beginning final approach," Aerlan called from navigation. "Affirmative," called out Orinos, the ship's pilot. "Taking us in."

_Contact in 00:00:10 standard seconds_

_9...8..._

"Confirmed, we are in the mass relays envelope."

_7...6..._

"Hitting the relay in 5...4..."

Victus could feel the motion dampers kick in, as the ship began to accelerate.

"3...2...1!"

The ship jolted, as it was suddenly propelled at faster–then–light speeds, across several dozen stars, and several light-years in seconds.

The entire crew (Except the blissfully stupid) waited on baited breath, on what could or could not be their death, as the ship neared the target system.

Orinos called out over the comm, as the seconds ticked down."We are entering the system in 3...2...1!"

Once again the ship jolted, as the motion dampers struggled to compensate for the sudden decrease in speed, as the ship arrived in system.

For several seconds the CIC was quiet, the only sounds being the beeping from the assorted consoles and terminals.

Finally Victus broke the silence."Status report." he called out.

Orinos called out first. "Thrusters, check. Navigation?" he called out to Aerlan.

"Check," he said "we're right on target, sir, drift is..." He checked his screen."... Just above 1,800 k." he said approvingly.

_'1,800?'_ Victus thought to himself, re. "Excellent job, Flight lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir!" Orinos said, a hint of pride in his voice. It was hard to get below 2'200 k on mapped relays. To do so on an uncharted relay was an amazing achievement.

"Anything on scans?" Victis asked.

"Five planets," Aerlan said, "No hostiles. Checking the sensors," he said. "Hummn... looks like we we have an agrarian world, second planet out." He sent the data from his console to the galaxy map.

"Any life signs?"Abrudas asked, slight worry in her voice.

"The Aegohr's checking now" he said. After several seconds the salarian ship sent word back.

"According to the scientists, there's a fully-developed ecosystem, but no intelligent native life. Just flora and fauna" he reported.

Victus sighed in relief. "All right, good job everyone. Get some rest, let the next shift get some time in."he said to the CIC crew. "Our job now is to protect the scientists and the Aegohr, as they scan the system. They'll probably start with the agrarian world. They'll do all the research.- our job is guard duty." He gave one last look around. "Dismissed."

"Yes, sir!" came the collective response from the crew, as they one-by-one, left their stations for the next shift to take over.

He then issued orders to have six soldiers head down to the agrarian world, to keep them safe. The science team on the Aegohr had said their scans had found nothing more dangerous then an average ecosystem, but he figured it better to be safe then sorry.

If all went well, the worst of it would be when the batarians started moaning about the scientists "disrupting a possible colony site with constant tests", or that some salarian experiment had " possibly ruined the new eco-system"

_'Well,'_ he thought, _'nothing left to do except wait for the salarians to take their samples and call it quits.'_

He then left to head to his quarters to freshen up, thankful that they had successfully entered a new system, **without** having to get into a slugging match with some hostile race.

They would have enough of a fight keeping the batarians under control.

* * *

_ PAGE BREAK(0)_

* * *

It had been eight hours since zero hour of their arrival in the new system. Thus far, the most that could be said was that the salarians and the asari scholars were having a field day on the study of the local flora and fauna.

And the batarians were busy taking holos of the landscape to plan colony development.

Taro, one of the turian soldiers on the planet, running guard duty over the teams as they cataloged everything and anything of interest. Taro himself was watching as several of the salarains were busy loading one of the native creatures – a strange, tentacled creature that actually was **floating** off the ground, thanks to a strange, fleshy, bubble-like sack/bag of... some sort of carbon/methane mix. He wasn't sure.

Probably better if he didn't know.

It sure was ugly as hell, though.

One of the salarians started droning on about "fascinating eco-system, unique life forms, and extremelymalleable bio-diversity".

He wasn't really that interested, but the frog didn't take the hint and proceeded to keep talking at a light-year a minute.

Eventuality he got called back to his station by a very angry sounding batarian – though they **always **sounded like that – griping at him to analyze one of the new rock samples taken from one of the southern sites.

Something about "similar geometric patterns form other sites" he'd seen before.

But right now, all Taro really cared about was the beautiful (to him) asari standing about ten feet away at the research console.

His girlfriend.

Everyone always told him not to go for asari because of the whole life-span thing. A single asari could live for a thousand years. Nearly as long as a krogan.

But Taro suspected it was simply because she was an asari.

Asari were known for being attractive to just about anyone, no matter what species you were. Even salarians! And they didn't even think about stuff like that normally, raising all kinds of rumors about asari being promiscuous, though he doubted that was the case. No one really knew why so many races found them attractive, since they did not even look the same compared to most other races. Most scientists thought their cross-species attractiveness might be neurochemical-based, secreted and transmitted by the asari in the same way and manner as a typical being would pheromones – through airborne and skin contact.

They shared the same body type as batarians – except the asari were all female, though technically mono-gendered- two arms, each hand having four fingers and a thumb, and two legs, each with five toes. Both sets of limbs were single jointed. They had well rounded hips and chests, typically. smooth skinned, coloured in shades of blue or purple. Two eyes, a nose with two nostrils, a mouth with two rows of straight teeth, one on top, one on the bottom. They did have head crests like turians, however theirs swept up slightly at the ends. And some also wore facial markings like the turians, although usually done in a splatter style.

But it was the thought that counted.

The asari, Corina, was currently cross-referencing the local fauna, with that of batarian standards, to ensure that if the council granted them permission to colonize the planet, they could do so easily.

If the readings were any indication, it would be smooth sailing, should they receive the rights.

She went to one of the small tanks to examine one of the local fish they had caught, and started to lift it, but nearly dropped over, thanks to the slick surface coated in water.

"Taro, could you help me with these?" she asked. He nodded and came over, helping her lift the remaining three tanks onto the makeshift table, and connect the scanning equipment.

Corina straightened up, then started the bio-analysis program.

About ten seconds later, she realized Taro was still there, and staring at her.

She smiled, knowing full well why he was still there. She turned and gave him a soft kiss, witch he returned.

"Guess you know me better then I thought," he said. She shook her head and sighed.

"You know we could get in trouble for this,"she said, glancing around nervously, "the science teams- especially the batarians - might not like it if they knew my boyfriend was one of the guards."

"What, worried?" he asked. "I can protect you," he soothed.

"And what about you?" she asked, half-joking, half-concerned. "Won't some of your shipmates not like it, knowing you were dating an asari?"

"Who cares what they think about it. The only opinions that matter are mine and yours." he said defiantly.

"I know that, I just-" she brought a hand against his right mandible. "I just don't want you to get in trouble because of me, of us."

"Oh, so it IS "us"?" he said happily.

She smiled, rolling her eyes at his 'one track mind', as her hand went to the console and set the analysis program to 'auto'.

"Lets go somewhere and I'll show you proof," she said softly," this **is **a new world. A beautiful one at that too. Might not get a chance to see it like this again. And no one around to disturb us."

She turned and walked through the nearby foliage, moving suggestively, and beckoning him to follow.

Taro did so, all the while thinking to himself how he **must **be the luckiest turian alive.

* * *

_ PAGE BREAK(0)_

* * *

Aerlan continued to monitor the local activity in the system, scanning at regular intervals, just in case of the event in which an unknown enemy suddenly entered the system.

So far, nothing more interesting then a random comet coming across the scans from a thousand light-years away.

In-depth scans from the probes, dispatched throughout the system, had revealed three more mass relays. One of which, based on the orientation recorded by the probe, would connect with the Annos basin, home-system of the salarians. Initially, it was assumed that the Annos basin could be connected by secondary relay jumps. But according to the data and telemetry from the probe, the relay was a dormant primary.

Meaning the scientists were right. The relays in the cluster would connect the salarian and batarian home-systems to each other.

That meant the council would have to maintain a constant vigil over the cluster, in order to guard the relays that would most likely be part of a new trade route. As well as stop any conflicts between the batarian hegemony and salarian union, before it turned into open war.

All in all, it looked like things would go just fine.

If the salarians and batarians didn't kill each other first.

Aerlan finished the scan of the systems' only gas giant. Despite the valuable helium-3 that would be mined, if colonization was approved, the planets deep gravity well, and high levels of lethal radiation made it unpromising.

However, knowing the batarians, they would probably build stations anyway. They didn't care about cost, only results.

Even more so, since the majority of the construction would most likely be done by slaves.

His next job was, now that all other planets in the system were scanned, to help coordinate the mapping of the agrarian world the teams were on.

He could hear the chatter form the nearby stations. Their new shift now manning the systems. Technically, his own shift was over, but he'd volunteered to take a double shift.

After all, he wasn't doing anything else, and it beat watching nothing but the infinite void of space from his window till he went insane.

From his station, he could hear talons tapping along the metal floor, no doubt Abrudas, coming down to check on the crew pits, that lined the path to the flight control.

And, of course, he heard her stop behind him.

"Anything to report, Staff sergeant?" she asked, in the usual curt manner she had when talking to him.

"Not yet, lieutenant,"Aerlan said, turning from his station to face her."And there probably never will be," a hint of annoyance creeping into his flanged voice.

"One thing I've learned, is to **never **say never, staff sergeant," she replied.

"What is it everyone thinks we're going to find out here?" he asked irritably, "do they think collectors are going to jump us all of a sudden?"

One of the others in a nearby station gave him a half-amused look. "Don't tell me you actually believe in collectors?"

"Why?, Do you?"Aerlan asked angrily.

"Of course not!" he said, half-laughing, "their just a myth!"

At this, Abrudas took another step forward and knelt down to the crew stations.

"I've seen too many things in my lifetime, to discount anything that could be a threat, real on not," Abrudas said. "That being said, only just over 1% of our galaxy has been actually charted, even less explored. It's anyone's guess what's out there," she turned back to Aerlan, "which is why we should be keeping a constant alert. Just in case we **do** run into a myth proven true."

He fought the urge to complain, and failed.

"Do you really believe that there's anything like that out **here?**" he asked exasperatedly.

"Maybe, maybe not," she said, in her usual curt manner, though now a tone more dangerous, "but I'd rather not wait till their drilling holes in our hull to find out" She leaned in slightly towards him.

"You would let them get close enough to attack us?" he said, tired of being talked down to.

"You think **you'd **do better against an unknown? To stop an unidentified enemy, with no tactical knowledge of their defensive, or offensive capabilities, **without **taking any enemy fire?" she said, anger starting to seep into her voice, "it can't be done!"

"Well maybe if you paid attention, you could pick up their tactics before they got up close, like a **good **commander - **if **you **were **a commander!"

The entire CIC went as quiet as death. Several others turning their heads at the site of the conflict, mandibles flailing open in fear, shock and horror.

Even to a passing bystander, you could tell she looked ready to explode. She was about to respond, when she saw something on Aerlan's console.

Something that made her whole body tense up and her eyes widen in horror.

"And if you actually paid **attention**," she said, finally turning her gaze back at Aerlan, eyes shining with concern, "you would notice the anomaly _**right on your screen!**_" she hissed through clenched mandibles and thinly veiled anger, mixed with worry.

The tension in the CIC suddenly tripled at the statement. Everyone's faces were suddenly plastered with looks of pure horror.

Aerlan stopped dead at that, any rebuke dying in his throat at the blatant announcement. He quickly spinned around to check the console, hoping that for the first time ever, Abrudas was joking.

She wasn't.

Right there, on the southeast quadrant, grid 6, was an anomaly, an unidentified signal transmitting on a frequency not used by any known race.

Less then a mile west of the science teams camp.

And he'd never even seen it.

He could not believe it. He'd double-checked everything-EVERYTHING- that signal had **not been there before**. He was SURE of it.

_'Unless...' _he realized, horror dawning on him _'it was on a **proximity detector, **set to go off when something or some**one** got too close'._

Then everything went to hell.

He was so buried in his thoughts, he didn't even notice that the CIC had erupted into total chaos.

"RED ALERT!" Abrudas started shouting towards the CIC control center "All hands to battle stations! Get weapons primed in case someone answers that signal! Get teams on shuttles send them ground side to defend the teams, in case there are hostiles planet-side!" she turned and marched back to central "And SOMEBODY alert commander Victus, NOW!"

Aerlan was still slumped at his console, disbelieving of how he's screwed up. You were **always **supposed to perform low-grade soft scan one grid at a time, tedious as it was, but he'd skipped it, thinking that since the wide-scan didn't catch anything, it meant nobody was here, seeing as he figured nobody would just leave a perfectly suited colony world vacant.

_'Unless they were planning a **trap**'_ he thought bitterly to himself, as the CIC continued to fall into utter disarray.

_'Okay, just calm yourself.' _he _thought.'You won't help anybody if you panic' _He tasked the console to run a continuous auto-scan for any unknowns trying to enter the system, then began a cross-referencing on the signal to try to determine the nature of the signal and its transmission destination.

And prayed that his mistake wouldn't be the death of them.

* * *

_ PAGE BREAK(v)_

* * *

Augustus Victus had been out of the shower for less then fifteen minutes, when then red alert, every commanders worst nightmare when on a mission of exploration, suddenly blared throughout the X.O's quarters, stunning Victus half out his wits.

_'I knew it was too good to be true'_

Quickly getting over the shock of the sudden alert, thanks to a lifetime of military training and experience, he quickly changed into his uniform, just finishing fastening the clasps on his uniform when his comm went off.

"_Commander Victus, we are-"_

"I'm well aware, crewman, I'm not deaf!" he said, anger leaking into his voice, despite his best efforts to contain it."I can **hear **the alert! I just want a status report. What the hell **happened?**"

"_Unknown signal detected from the second planet, southeast quadrant, right on top of the science teams, sir,"_ the crewman reported nervously.

"Damn it!" He cursed "how the **hell** did no one find it?"

_"Uhh...you'll have to ask staff sergeant Tavis about that, I don't really know details, sir"_ The crewman said, tone anxious. _'In other words, he screwed up, and the crewman's trying to cover him' _Victus thought angrily.

"_All I know,"_ the crewman continued _"is that we have an unknown signal, less then a mile from where the scientists made camp"._

Victus cursed violently, enough to make the crewman on the other side of the comm jerk, even though he could not see it.

"Any contact with them?"

"_none yet. They didn't get their comm equipment up yet, but we've got a team loaded onto a shuttle to secure the area, and e vac them in case of hostiles, sir. They should there in a few-"_

"Get them get down there **now**. I'll be on the CIC shortly." he said, turning off the comm even as he left his quarters and fast walked to the elevator, and pressed the button as far down as it could go.

* * *

_ PAGE BREAK(v)_

* * *

Victus walked onto the CIC, immediately heading down past the galaxy map to the site of the perceived lapse in judgment and protocol, that may or may not have just killed them all. Staff sergeant Tavis' station on navigation. As he did so, lieutenant Abrudas left the galaxy map and joined him in his march.

"Report?" he said, working to keep tension out of his voice.

"Like crewman Gavor said, an unidentified signal, still no information other then that, sir."

"Yes, the crewman also said to talk with Tavis about **why** whatever's transmitting wasn't detected until **after **it went active."

Abrudas growled at the question "The staff sergeant didn't follow procedure. He thought that since this was a habitable planet, no one would leave it un-colonized, so if a wide-scan didn't find anything, we were in the clear. Idiot!"

The person in question was currently analyzing the signal frequency, determining it's purpose, when Victus and Abrudas finished making their way to his station.

"Staff sergeant." Aerlan heard behind him, knowing full well who was behind him.

And full well what would happen to him, based on how merciful said person was.

"Crewman Gavor told me to ask **you **about how the source of our red alert, the unknown signal and it's transceiver, bypassed our initial scans" he said, his voice cold, impossible to read.

Though Aerlan didn't really need to read his voice to know, did he?

"So then. If you would please tell me" He went on "just **how DID **we not find it until **after **it started transmitting?"

For several seconds, Aerlan said nothing. He just looked at the console, eyes downcast.

Finally, right as Victus was about to ask again, Aerlan responded.

"it was my fault, sir" he said, almost to soft to hear.

He turned to face his superiors. "i made the decision to forgo the soft scan of the individual grids myself. I thought nobody would just leave a perfect colony world if they had access to it, or that they would sacrifice it just for a trap, sir" he explained solemnly. "forgive me, sir"

Victus just stood there for several seconds, just silently staring down at Aerlan, no emotion crossing his face as he silently contemplated what he'd heard.

"If it makes a difference, I've finished an analysis of the signal and'-

"Staff sergeant" Victus cut him off, causing Aerlan's heart to sink.

"You've ignored procedure, blatantly putting every life in this expedition at risk," he said coldly "just because you were cocky and arrogant. Anyone else would have you put in the brig, to be court-martialed."

Aerlan bowed his head down, eyes never leaving the floor."yes, sir" he muttered half-heartedly.

Vitcus took a deep breath. "but right now, I can't afford to lose any able bodied men, so for now," he said, a slight strain in his voice, "just give me your report on the signal."

Aerlan jolted his head up, looking up at Victus, his expression just as shocked as that of Abrudas.

"Y-yes, sir, thank you, sir!" he said, " I promise-"

"Save it until **after** we're sure we aren't about to be attacked" he said, voice still strained "now, your report?"

As Aerlan spun back around to pull up the results, Abrudas pulled on Victus' shoulder.

"Are you **sure** about this?" she asked, worried, "after what's happened-"

"We can't afford to be down even one person if we **do **end up encountering a hostile race," he said. "So for now, until we get back to council space, he stays on navigation". He turned to look at her. "you don't have to like it, but the fact is we have no choice" he stated simply.

"Sir, I have the report here" Aerlan said, gesturing them over. Victus and Abrudas came over to the console.

"According to the decrypting system, the signal doesn't match any known council race, but the patterns are quite familiar, sir" he explained "to be exact, they are quite similar to the distress beacons on our fighters".

Victus and Abrudas both looked at each other, then back to Aerlan. "So your saying," Abrudas started, "that the signal is a... distress beacon?"

"I believe so, ma'am," Aerlan said.

"So then is it automatic?"Victus asked. "Or did someone trigger it manually?"

"It must have been manual," Abrudas said. "How else would it not have gone off, until after we had landed?"

"It **does **sound a bit convenient." Victus admitted.

"Not quite." Aerlan said. "It could actually have been just as much dumb luck. I think it must not have had enough energy to run the beacon continuously, so it entered power-down mode, until a ship – not an animal, or else the beacon would have already been on - set off the proximity alert." he explained lengthily, sounding reminiscent of a quarian, or salarian. "witch only adds credence to the possibility that this a derelict fighter of some sort"

Victus looked at Abrudas, then back. "Interesting," Abrudas said "but that still doesn't tell us weather or not someone is, or isn't coming to answer it."

"I don't think so, ma'am. For the beacon to have switched to proximity detection would implicate it had been there a long time already." he said, a bit of confidence coming back into his voice. "i don't think anyone's coming."

"Better safe then sorry" Victus said. "We'll wait until we here from the teams from the planet, before we commit to a course of action."

"Yes, sir" Aerlan said, looking nervously at him. "Commander... do you want me to confine myself to quarters?"

Victus raised a brow-plate, before simply saying "As you were, Staff sergeant", turning and walking back to the CIC galaxy map.

Aerlan stood there in surprise, before nodding and returning to his station.

Abrudas walked alongside Victus toward the galaxy map. "what now?" she asked, the tension still in her voice.

He sighed, turning to her.

"Now we wait"

* * *

_ PAGE BREAK(0)_

* * *

It was ten minutes before the shuttle team reported back.

Victus listened as the comm ringed, the comm crackling to life.

"_sir?" _the comm, voice only, asked out. _"sir, do you read?"_

"This is commander Victus," he replied "We read. Is the situation under control?"

"_yes, and no, sir." _the soldier said uneasily.

"What do you mean?" Victus asked, his voice a mixture of worry and concern. "did you run into hostile contact?"

"_no, sir. We did find the source of the beacon. A derelict, just like the staff sergeant thought."_

Victus felt some much needed relief wash over him, but was still worried.

"_How about you, sir? Any sign of anyone coming to investigate?"_

"No, soldier, nothing so far." He paused, a thought occurring to him "Soldier, any clue as to how long the ship was on planet? And precisely what kind of ship **was **it anyway? Was it a fighter, or part of a larger ship?"

There was a noticeable pause in how long it took for the solider to respond.

"_As far as I can tell, it's been here for a bit, though not too long, as theirs little corrosion" _he said.

"_As for the second question..." _he paused.

Now Victus was a little concerned. "Soldier?"

"_As for your second question, it **isn't **a ship." _he said. _"not really."_

Victus raised his brow-plates in confusion. "What?" he asked. "if it isn't a ship then what **is **it?"

There was another pause.

"_Sir," _the solider said, _"I think your going to want to see this for yourself."_

The console chirped, acknowledging a signal from the ground team, containing a visual file.

Victus accepted the signal, accessing the file, projecting the image on the galaxy map.

What Victus saw caused him to be stricken dumb.

For several seconds, he just stared at the image, mandibles slack, eyes wide, unbelieving of what he saw.

Abrudas came over to see what was the matter, before she fell into the same dumbfoundment as Victus at the sight of the image.

After a full minute, Victus finally moved, turning to leave the CIC.

"Abrudas." he said. She turned to look after him. "Have the senior staff meet me in the briefing room in five minutes, then send out a temporary comm bouy and get a secure line to the hierarchy. Mark it as top priority, along with a copy of the image."

She nodded, responding with the customary "yes, sir", before heading straight to work.

Victus headed to the briefing room, to figure out what exactly he wag going to say to the primarch, since that was most likely what was going to happen once the hierarchy got the message, and the image.

How were you supposed to explain, without sounding like a madman, that you had found something that could change the face of the entire galaxy?

He paused for a moment, thinking.

_'very, **very slowly and carefully**' _ he figured.

He hoped and prayed that would be enough.

* * *

_ PAGE BREAK(0)_

* * *

The sound of one of the local birds woke Corina up long before she would have on her own.

She wasted no time in casting a glance of annoyance at the after-mentioned avian, as it heedlessly flew off past the top of the rock face they'd camped under.

Still, she could not help but smile as she admired the coloring of it's feathers against the sun.

_'speaking of avians' _she thought.

She turned back over to where another avian - though much better looking, in her opinion - was currently laying, staring up at the clouds.

It took a few seconds for Taro to realize she was awake, noticing her looking at him as he stole a glance to where he figured she was still sleeping.

When he saw she was up, his mandibles parted slightly – the turian equivalent of a smile.

"It's a nice view."

She looked at the reflection of the planets sun against the clouds, backdropped by a pink-orange sky against the distant sun.

"Yeah" she said, smiling"it is."

Taro looked at her for a moment, before following her gaze toward the sky. "Oh, that." he said.

"Yeah, it is beautiful, but not what I was talking about."he said coyly.

She gave a confused look. "Well, what were you talk-" before it dawned on her just **where-**and **who**- he was looking at.

_'Oh, goddess..." _she thought, unable to keep a small giggle from escaping.

_'Well, that was a wonderful excuse to explore' _she thought jokingly._'i wonder how the others are doing?.' _she knew that the other teams had probably noticed they were gone by now. It **had **been about...

_'...Oh, goddess - how long **has **it been?' _she realized.

She sat up and reached over to where her gloves, and attached omni-tool lay atop a small stone. She pulled it on and powered up the interface, blinking at the clock display.

_'We were out here for almost two hours?' _she gazed back at the sun, now moving to the opposite side of the sky, sighing.

_'The batarians "running" the show back at camp will most likely have my head, and I doubt Amara can cover for us that long'_. And no doubt she would.

She was her best friend, and one of the only people she and Taro trusted with the knowledge of their relationship. She would probably take overtime to cover their disappearance as well.

They'd have to get back to camp soon.

Overhead, she could hear another bird calling out as it flew overhead. After a few seconds, she could see it over the nearby hills.

Looking closely, Corina realized she could see a small stream flowing over the side of the hill, forming a small waterfall that the bird swooped through, emerging out the other side, a fish clamped firmly in its beak.

"Taro," she said, whom was just now starting to put his uniform back on."Look over there," she pointed off in the distance. "There's a waterfall near hear, and I think there's probably a pond too."

Taro looked up at her curiously "A waterfall? What, did the spirits **make** this world perfect?"

"Maybe" she said jokingly. "Too bad the batarians are the ones who are getting the market rights"

"Oh, who says anyone else can't have a home here?" he asked. "We'll be near salarian space too, and they're on good terms with the turians." he moved over to a small rock pile and started moving them into a little circle near the center of the small, grassy field they were in.

"There!" he said proudly. "Now the claims been staked!"

Corina couldn't help but laugh at her boyfriends optimism. He was always so care-free, but fought like a rabid varren for the things he did care about.

Like her.

"Well, I'll be sure to log it in to the maps. Wouldn't want to build the spaceport too close, would we?" she said playfully, causing him to start laughing too.

"Well, we better get to it then." he said moving to pull his boots back on. "we don't want them to map it out before we can put our claim up" he said.

"Could you wait a bit?" she asked politely "I'd like a chance to clean up a bit at that pond."

"Sure"he said,"by all means. I'd even join you,-"

"Yeah, I bet" she said playfully.

"But, this world is levo-acid based, and I can't be sure about how I'd take the water."

"Yeah, wouldn't want you to get sick before you could start laying the foundation out" she said coyly.

Taro just smiled at her. "Now your doing it on purpose" he said, a small chuckle in his flanged voice.

She smiled back and, giving one last look, set of towards the waterfall.

* * *

_ PAGE BREAK (v)  
_

* * *

Taro couldn't help but smile as he watched her walk off, before setting back to getting back to re-clasping his uniform.

_'Luckiest. Turian. Alive.'_

He really didn't know how he'd ended up with someone like Corina, but he had been thanking the spirits every day ever since.

He turned to pick up his gloves, when his omni-tool started beeping an alert. Quizzically raising a brow-plate, he pulled his gloves on, and tapped the interface.

The message a priority alert, the contents of witch caused Taro's heart to frezze.

**'Alert. Anomalous signal detected at southeast quadrant, grid 6. all personnel return to camp and prepare for possible evacuation while awaiting for reinforcement. Repeat, anomalous sign-**

Taro shut the message off, trying to fight the growing sense of panic.

A priority alert like this could only mean a possible attack, and since they were in uncharted space – meaning no pirates – it could only mean an unidentified species.

He tried to contact base camp. The comm buzzed for several seconds, before the voice of a batarian answered.

"_Who the hell is it?" _he asked irritability. _"moreover, why the hell are you calling? Don't you know we have an alert? They could trace the signal!._

"Security officer Taro Haron," he responded quickly, "What's happened?" Taro asked.

"_You- you don't know? what have you been doing, laying under a rock?"_ the irate batarian all but yelled.

"No- no, I know about the signal, I got the alert – I mean I **just **got the alert, but -"

"_you **just got the alert?** Where the **hell **are you, anyway?_

Taro checked the auto-mapping on his omni-tool. "about a mile west of you. Let me get back to-"

"_Wait." _the batarian said, a hint of what sounded like fear now in his voice. _"about a mile west. Are you **sure?**"_

Taro blinked in confusion. "pretty sure" he said. "here, let me sync my omni-tool to your terminal, or whatever your using". He sent a transmission to the batarian.

However, there was no immediate response, witch made Taro nervous.

"Are you still-"

"_Listen to me!" _the batarian's voice suddenly erupted from the comm, nearly scaring Taro out of his skin. _"Listen to me right now! **Get out of there!**" _he screamed.

"Wa-what?" Taro sputtered. "What are-"

"_Listen, idiot! if you value your life, get out of there **now!** Your **right next **to that signal! Do you hear me? **you're right on top of it!**"_

Taro felt his heart leap into his throat. He tried to speak, but was unable to form anything intelligible. Immediately, he had his omni-tool scan for nearby signal sources.

His heart now felt as though it was going to jump out his mouth

Less then seventy yards away, the map showed a blip, representing the signal. Right on top of his location, just like the batarian said.

Right near the waterfall.

_'Corina...'_

He felt his heart stop and a lead weight drop in his gut.

Without even thinking about it,he had his omni-tool lock on to hers. The blip showing her location-barely ten feet from the signal.

His mind went to auto-pilot, and he ran straight for the waterfall, and the signal. He just ran through the foliage, never giving a second thought to the branches whipping into his face, or the roots he ran into. He never even bothered to turn off his comm, or the protests of the batarian, who was still tracking him.

_**"****W**__**hat are you doing? You're going the wrong goddamned way!"**_

Taro ignored the batarian, running as fast as he could, the only thing on his mind being Corina. He didn't care **what **was waiting for him at the signal source. He only knew that if it hurt her, he would single-handedly tear it's limbs of and force-feed them to it, before he tore off it's head and rammed it down the bloody stump where it had been.

_'fifty meters'_

He jumped over a small tangle of roots, never breaking stride. He could hear his heart thumping in his chest.

_'forty. Thirty-five.'_

He charged straight through a small thicket, heedless to the thorns that snagged on his uniform. If he was cut, he didn't notice.

_'Thirty, twenty-five'_

Even if he was, he didn't care. All he cared about was getting to that damn waterfall.

_'Twenty, fifteen'_

He could see the edge of the rim of trees that circled the pond the waterfall emptied into.

_'Ten, five'_

He bowed his head and charged through the treeline into the clearing around the pond.

He looked at the omni-tool. The map was showing her not far from him. He looked around...

There she was!

She was standing on a small hill at the base of the waterfall, facing away from him.

_'oh, thank spirits' _he thought. He felt pure relief wash over him, dropping to one knee to try to steady his fluctuating breath.

It took several seconds for him to steady his breathing, before he could bring himself to stand back up.

His first thought was to get her out of the area, so he ran towards her, deciding to risk calling out her name.

"Corina!" he yelled out. She turned toward him, a hint of surprise in her expression, but a happy one.

"Corina!" he called again. "We have to get out of here! There was an alert issued-"

"I know" she interrupted. "I got the message too."

"Y-you did?" he asked, surprised. "But-"

"Taro, listen, I think I've found the signal. The one that triggered the alert." she explained. "it's some sort of old... well, fighter doesn't describe it."

Taro struggled to catch up with what he'd been told. "Y-you found the-"

"Just come and see" she said, grabbing his arm. She then started pulling him toward the hill she'd been standing on.

"W-wait! How do you know it's safe? It could blow up!"

"It's been here a while, and it's unmanned, so I think we're safe" she said. "besides, you have to see it to believe it."

" What **is **'it'?"

She brought him to the top of the hill, and pointed to a spot against the rock-face.

And Taro could only stare in shock.

"What _**is it ?**_"

She could not give an answer. She herself had not seen anything like it in her two-hundred-seventy years of life.

Crashed against the side of the rock-face was a large, biped-based machine form. A mobile combat frame that did not resemble any other known race, not even the protheans.

It was mostly composed of thick armor-plates, and had a Grey-blue coloration, bore two arms and two legs, although the left was missing from the knee down, and the left hand was crushed under the rest of the bulky torso. the remaining foot was bulky and rectangular, no doubt in order to balance out the weight of the machine. A squarish head sat atop the torso, featureless except for the single eye sensor, mounted on a grove on the upper half of the head, offering a 180-degree line of sight.

An open alcove was visible in the lower torso, most likely the cockpit for the craft. Multiple scorch marks lined the lower-left side, where the leg had been lost. Laying aside the machine, parallel to the right arm, was a large rifle, big enough for the machine to clasp, and most likely as powerful as the heavy cannon on a cruiser.

As Taro stared at the alien battleframe, he felt Corina loop her arm around his, nudging up to him.

Against the descending sun, the two looked on at the site of the moment that would change galactic history, and alter the future forevermore.

**well, here it is. my first fic!**

**I know it's probably rushed, but i had to start somehow. reviews, good, bad, but most of all, _honest_, are very much appreciated, and i thank those who give the time to do so. will try to be bi-weekly, but updates could be sporadic. just a fair warning.  
**

**Thank you.  
**


	2. PHASE 0: Prologue 2 :Unseen Shadows

**Warning: this chapter is mostly filler, building up for the next one.**

**Disclaimer: i do not own mass effect or gundam seed, their respective characters, or anything else besides OC's, OT(original technology) and OMS' (original mobile suits) Mass Effect and their respective characters, locations and universe belong to BioWare and is licensed by EA Games. Gundam SEED, Gundam SEED Destiny and their respective characters, locations and universe belong to sunrise, Inc. and is licensed by Namco/Bandai entertainment, and Madman entertainment. **

**If i missed anyone, please let me know!**

* * *

**PHASE 0 Prologue/ Unseen Shadows **

_Codex entry: Classified documents: Artifact 634 Disaster._

_On 2146 CE, a salarian exploration vessel, charted by the Batarian Hegemony, and escorted by a turian scout fleet, entered an uncharted relay and discovered a system with a habitable agrarian world, orbiting a yellow star, making it a perfect colony system._

_However, all that changed when the science teams discovered a crashed artifact, later revealed to be a human-built "mobile suit"._

_Immediately after it's discovery, the expedition was recalled to council space, and the turian military, having been the presiding military force in the area, was given permission to classify the artifact as under their military jurisdiction._

_However, among the salarain scientists sent to examine the suit, at the behest of the turians, was a rouge STG agent, who murdered a batarian representative, who was one of two sent to protect the Hegemony's interests in the planet, as well as the other members of the science team he accompanied. Apparently, he had planed to sell the data recovered from the suit to the highest bidder. _

_Further investigation revealed his supporter, and the mastermind behind the plan, was the Dalatrass Imora Sothol, who planned to use the profits to fund a proxy war between the council races, and manipulate her way to the top of the Salarian Union. Fortunately, the plan was discovered and she was arrested and deposed by the Head Dalatrass Ultera._

_The Turian Hierarchy, as well as Vor'gall Korragan of the Batarian Hegemony, were commended for stopping one of the most dangerous attacks on the council, since the height of the Krogan Rebellions._

* * *

PROLOGUE – 2

* * *

The birds native to the agrarian world had never had to worry about danger any more.

None of the native fauna could reach them, unless incredibly lucky.

But all that had changed the moment two of the newcomers stumbled on the metal giant, that had crashed down some time ago.

Now the local birds were spending most of the following days dodging numerous shuttles as they dropped more and more newcomers, all climbing over themselves to see the landmark discovery that they were to transport back to council space.

Numerous turian soldiers swarmed around the once secluded waterfall, setting up camps and taking up defensive positions around the derelict mobile framework, as a trio of the most excited salarians anyone had ever seen, now seemingly stuck in hyperactive-mode, relentlessly combed every cubic meter and square inch of the machine, scanning anything, and **everything **they could.

Captain Duras Haliat, a respected (and feared) turian,was in charge of the recovery operation for the machine.

Although, the salarians had pretty much commandeered the whole blasted opp.

Haliat had argued at length about bringing the salarians into the fold about the battleframe, but the primarch had countermanded his order.

"_We need to build our advantage."_, the primarch had said. "_For as long as I can remember, the salarians have always had the upper hand in their deals with us. Now **we're **the ones that have something **they **want. They'll come in on their hands and knees to see even a **fraction **of what we recovered, and I intend to take full advantage of that."_

Haliat had to agree with that. As long as they didn't get **too **much, this could be the biggest boon the turians could have hoped for.

If they played it right.

After the battleframe had been discovered, the first two things the hierarchy had done was send out a black-ops unit to secure the frame, and to retract the exploratory fleet, on the grounds of, 'possible contact with an unknown race'.

According to what he'd been told, none of the science teams, with the exception of the asari and her turian boyfriend, had actually seen the derelict battleframe, and he was to take great pains, if necessary, to ensure it remained that way.

Both the asari, Corina, and the turian, Taro, would not be a problem.

Taro was a security officer for hire, who usually did corporate jobs for the businesses on the citadel, and the asari was just a simple agriculture scholar. Both would not realize the discovery wouldn't be public, and both would be sworn to secrecy before they could.

Aside from them, no one else on the expedition ship knew just what they had found.

And no one else would, until it was safely on Palaven.

His omni-tool suddenly flared_, _showing a priority message coming in.

_"Sir?" _a voice came from the display, _"we have an incoming transmission, labeled priority, highest level, sir."_

"who from?"

_"Not sure, sir, but the authorization checks out. we do have the location source, and judging on that alone, you're gonna want to answer it, sir," _the officer said, sounding slightly nervous.

Haliat nodded, then issued the command from his display.

_"Confirmed. Patching you you through, sir."_

Haliat watched as the signal acquired it's transmission source.

Straight from Menae, moon of Palaven, homeworld of the turians.

And the site of Blackwatch HQ.

Glancing around nervously, he walked toward the edge of the trees, into the shadows, now dark as the void in the planet's night cycle, as he answered the comm.

His omni-tool flared back to life around his arm, projecting a mini screen form the top 'panel', upon which he was put in contact with his commander, - a turian with a chalk white face, blue-gray flange crests, the side-crests stemming from the side of his head substantially longer then average, and dark-blue facial paint, a single stripe down each eye, and down his chin.

As soon as connection was confirmed, he gave a salute to his superior officer, and commander.

"Commander Arterius." he said, surprised.

"At ease, solider."

Haliat, quickly getting over his surprise, dropped his salute and assumed a more comfortable stance. "Sir, you called. Priority?"

"Yes," He started, " I was just informed by the primarch, of your mission, and what you've found out there. I've been put in charge of the operation."

Haliat blinked at that. "You, sir? But I thought commander Victus-"

"For the expedition, yes," he clarified, "but this is now a military operation, involving unidentified technology." he straightened up a bit more. "And according to the primarch, that is now my jurisdiction. It is my job to ensure complete secrecy over the transfer, and protection of the battleframe."

Haliat did not respond, but he gave a nod of affirmation.

"As such, there are certain...discrepancies that have come to light", he went on. "Which brings me to my reason for contacting you." Haliat nodded agaian.

"Oh, and captain," he said. Haliat's stance stiffened up even more. " For the duration of the mission, you are not to give yourself away as turian military, therefore there's no need for rank on this one"

"But commander-"

"Please," he interrupted smoothly "call me Desolas."

* * *

_PAGE BREAK (v)  
_

* * *

Not far away, one of the two batarians that had been stationed on the planet was making his way around the treeline, searching for his partner, after a request for help.

With what, he hadn't said, but whatever it was, most likely was not worth the trouble, given the nature of the rich cursing coming from the four-eyed, bat-descended biped as he tripped over several assorted roots and shrubs.

Vor'gall muttered angrily to himself, as he stumbled in the dark between trees, wondering how in the HELL'S he had gotten stranded here.

He was supposed to have gone back with everyone else, but instead, he and some other fool had been stranded here, with the damn turians and salarians.

Now, Ro'sholl, the after-mentioned fool, had called saying he needed help. He said he'd 'found something.'

He hadn't come on this trip to babysit some whiny idiot.

He tripped on another root, spurring him into violent string of curses.

_'Screw this! I'm not some guard varren! You want to have guard patrols, use drones! That's what they were **made **for, right?'_

"Should have made that dumbass wait at the camp. What was he **doing **here, anyway?"

The turians had some of the crews from the expedition stay to guard the site, until the new ship the turians sent finished recovering "the artifact". At least that's what they called it.

And until they were done, nobody was allowed within eight-hundred feet of the site.

And it wasn't fair.

The batarians had been the ones who charted the expedition in the first place! This was supposed to be **their **world!

Now the council had claimed what was probably the most valuable thing on the entire planet, **their **entire planet, and they thought they were just going to sit on their hands and do **nothing?**

They had a rude awaking coming.

At muzzle velocity.

He was so deep in thought, he wasn't watching the ground.

He tripped over a particularly thick root and and fell flat over the side of a small hill. He rolled once, twice, three times over, swearing and cursing until he finally came to a stop six feet away from his starting point.

He lay face down in the dirt, before raising himself back up, spitting out a handful of dirt, and brushing the stray leaves and dirt particles from his uniform.

"Goddamned trees! I swear, if we ever manage to get the council off our world, I'll see every tree in this whole damned forest ripped up!."

Most batarians could see quite well in the dark, thanks to their bat-like ancestors.

**But, **the sheer amount of roots nullified that. For every one you dodged, three more sprung up seemingly out of nowhere.

He then set himself to the task of climbing back up the side of the hill, mumbling various curses in every language he could think of.

After several minutes of scrabbling and swearing, he pulled himself to the top of the hill.

"Stupid root." he said, eying the tree where the offending plant appendage had sent him over the side of the slope. He walked over, fully intending to rip the tree root straight out of the ground.

And stopped dead, eyes widening in horror at the site before him.

There, splayed across the ground beside the tree, was Ro'sholl, lying face down in a dark pool of what could only be blood, leaking from the dagger sunk deep into his upper back. His arm was flung outward at an unnatural angle, close to where Vor'gall had tripped and fell down the hill.

_'Exactly the same spot' _Vor'gall realized, a wave of nausea coming over him, as he just now figured out **what **he'd really tripped on.

He knelt down to Ro'sholl's side, checking just to make sure he really was dead.

He certainly didn't **look **like he wasn't, but Vor'gall learned to never take things at face value.

He rolled him over face-up onto his back, ignoring his glazed eyes, then-

He covered his nose, the sent wafting off his clothes hitting him like a carnafex hand-cannon.

_'Drunk on the job. Just like him.'_

He carefully put two fingers on Ro'sholl's neck.

No pulse. No breath.

_'Dead as a krogan's brain cells,' _ he thought, starting to stand back up, when he noticed what looked, and smelled, like blood stained into his right arm.

He blinked his eyes once, thinking he'd never even felt himself get hurt, when he saw that his right shoulder was covered in blood as well.

It took a few seconds for him to realize the blood wasn't his.

_'Must have fallen in some when i fell', _he thought grimly. He again knelt down to adjust Ro'sholl's head, facing it straight up toward the sky, his eyes aimed at the general direction of the star pattern that held the Kite's nest, and their homeworld, Khar'shan.

_'Farewell Ro'sholl Bakkel. May your soul find safe journey to the next world.'_, he said in his native language. He then chanted a short prayer, head bowed down.

Sure he hadn't been found of him, but he didn't hate him. All batarians were taught to honor those who were faithful to Khar'shan, no matter what bad blood was between them. Outlaws weren't worth crap, and most would gladly spit on them before taking their eyes, so as to prevent them from reaching the next world.

But those who were faithful to their fellow batarians, and to their home, would always be treated with respect.

He finished the prayer, wondering what he would now do with the body, and was just standing up-

"I didn't think you prayed for the dead," a flanged voice said from behind him.

Vor'gall spun around, reflexively reaching for his belt, and grabbing the empty socket his gun normally was.

He looked at the socket dumbfounded, before mentally cursing himself, realizing it must have come off when he fell down the hill.

Realizing he could do nothing, he turned back to the interloper – a turian in black armor, lined with thin gray markings. His face looked like every other turian usually did, his skin and plates a dark charcoal – gray and lined with dark-blue markings.

"I saw you a minute ago, but when I saw you over the body, I... figured I should give you some time to acclimatize," he went on. "Sorry if I startled you."

Vor'gall just eyed him suspiciously, as he continued looking around, searching for some form of weapon.

The turian seemed to see this. "Would it be easier if I put my weapons down?" he asked, and started to reach for his sidearm.

"Hold it!" the batarian said, taking a careful step toward him. The turian froze, three fingered hand hovering just above the hilt of the gun. "**I'll **do it!" he said, as if he didn't realize that with no weapon of his own, there was nothing he could do to force the turian to cooperate if he tried anything.

But if the turian saw the opening, and, unless he was stupid, he must have, he didn't take it. He just lowered his hand and let Vor'gall walk up to him.

He reached over carefully, griped the turian's handgun, and removed it from the magnetic socket it was clamped to. He then circled around, and pulled off his other weapons – a shotgun, a sniper rifle, and an assault rifle, and tossed them several feet away, before he turned back to the turian.

_'Well armed, isn't he?' _Vor'gall thought.

"Okay," he started, not quite believing he'd got a fully armed turian to drop his weapons for an unarmed guy standing over what was clearly a murder scene. He, himself would have just shot the other and been done with it. "First off, what's your name?".

"I'm Team Captain Duras Haliat" he said plainly, not sounding the least bit concerned at all. "I was out here searching for one of the salarians when I found this, then-"

"What?" Vor'gall asked, working to keep the suprise from his voice. "Y-you mean you **knew **about this? When? Why the hell didn't you **tell someone?**"

Haliat gave him an annoyed look, as if his biggest concern was that he'd been interrupted, instead of the half-panicked batarian pointing a gun at him.

"First off, I only **just **found the body. Second, I didn't tell anyone because I never got the chance before you came stumbling in."

"So you **just **foundthe body?" he asked, not bothering to hide the suspicion in his voice.

Haliat gave him an irritated look. "Yes," he asserted, "I just found it, otherwise I wouldn't have just left it here for someone to, literally, trip over, now would I?"

"Or you could have just got here, like you said, but instead, it was to move it away to dispose of." he suggested, "Or maybe, you **just** moved it here, and didn't get a chance to bury it, or burn it or whatever, before I came along?".

Haliat sighed, wondering if all batarians were this paranoid. "look, I'm armed- **was **armed, right? If I was the killer, I would have just shot him dead."

"No," Vor'gall said, "cause then someone might have herd the shot. Nothing is more silent then a blade."

"Know that from experience, do you?" Haliat asked a split second before he realized he should have kept his mouth shut.

Vor'gall's eyes narrowed dangerously, his facial ridges scrunching in a angry look.

"Are you suggesting something?" he asked coldly.

"No, I-"

"You saying **I **had something to do with this?" he accused.

"I never said that." Haliat said. "Your putting words in my mouth."

"You said I 'know from experience' right? You saying you think you saw something, huh?"

"**Listen!" **Haliat snapped, his patience wearing thin. "**I **am not the killer, because if I was, I would have shot you the moment you found the body, and I was in a **perfect **position to do so. And I know it wasn't you!"

Vor'gall blinked once. "How do you know that?"

Haliat stared him down. "Because I saw the real killer leave." He said.

Just like that, as if he was talking about the weather.

Vor'gall's jaw dropped, his eyes widened and his grip on the gun slackened, to the point where the gun nearly fell from his grip.

"Please don't drop a loaded gun." the turian warned.

He caught himself in time, then brought back to bear on the turian.

"Y-y-you," he stuttered "you saw him?"

"Yes, I did." he said. "I saw him come from behind the tree and-" he put his hand to his head. "Look, I recorded it on my omni-tool. See for yourself."

"You- you had-," he struggled to catch up with what he was told.

When Vor'gall did, he cast a withering glare at Haliat. "Why. Didn't. You. Say. **Something?** Do you **know **how much trouble you could have saved the **both of us?**"

Haliat just shrugged. "You never asked if I knew what happened."

It took all of Vor'gall's self-restraint to not shoot him.

He steadied his breathing, working to tell himself that he'd be shot dead by the other guards that would, no doubt, hear the gunshot.

And he didn't want to die. Not before he had a chance to avenge his fellow batarian.

"Well" he said finally, after several seconds of steadying himself. "Let's see it."

* * *

_PAGE BREAK(0)_

* * *

Ro'sholl was stumbling half-blinded – mostly from the heavy amounts of drink he'd had – through the tangle of woods that layered around the waterfall in a small ring. Clasped in one hand was a flask, filled with batarian ale, straight from the barkeeps of omega. And in the other, was a datapad that would make him the richest batarian this side of the hegemony.

When he got back to batarian space, he'd be famous, estates across half the galaxy. Hell, a penthouse on the presidium even!

Although, he would have to probably give **something **to his source.

After he took as much credit as he could, of course. After all, he'd never have this chance if not for that-

He heard a rustling in the bush a few feet away. He jumped back, dropping his flask, and pulled out his M-3 predator hand pistol. He shakily aimed it at the bush.

"W-who's there?" he asked, his voice as shaky as his aim.

No answer.

"Is – is someone there?" he asked again.

Again, nothing.

He took a step forward. The bush rustled again, much louder.

Ro'sholl panicked, firing into the bush, the sound of which would attract the attention of his partner, and fellow batarian.

He took a few nervous steps toward the bush in question.

_Beep! Beep!_

He jumped several feet, feeling his heart nearly pop out his chest.

He soon realized the sound was his omni-tool. He looked as his wrist, and pulled up the display.

"_Ro'sholl? You there?"_

It was Vor'gall. His fellow batarian, – and the only other on planet.

"Yeah, Yeah I'm here. What's wrong?"

"_Just checking in. I thought I heard a noise. Sounded like a shot fired."_

Ro'sholl gulped nervously.

"Uh... that was me, I... I thought I saw an animal."

"_What? Damn it, Ro'sholl! This isn't like hunting harvesters on Tarith! This is a non-hostile ecosystem! The most danger here is stubbing your toe on a damned root!"_

"Yeah, well, how do we know that? We've only been here for just over a day!"

"_We're also leaving tomorrow, as soon as the turians are done pillaging our world."_

"Yeah, right," he muttered. "You know as damn well as I do that once the council sinks their grubby claws into something, they **never** pull them without reasons that make it to much trouble to be worth it."

"_I guess..." _Vor'gall replyed. _"Still a damn shame, though. This was a perfect colony site. Do you know how long we might have to wait for another site that even comes **close **to this one?" _

"Well..." Ro'sholl started, looking nervously around, making sure no-one could hear.

"_Well, what?" _

"could you come here?" he asked, fidgeting with his pistol. "I... I've found something. Something that could help us."

"_What? what is it?" _Vor'gall asked, _"and why can't you just come to me, instead of making **me** find **you** in the godforsaken woods?"_

_' Don't answer truthfully ' _ Ro'sholl thought to himself. _' **they **could be monitoring the comms. ' _

"I-I, Uh... I don't know where I am. I'm not sure how to get back to camp, and I swapped my omni-tool module, so no tracker," he paused, "Sorry."

Ro'sholl had to lower the volume on his comm, as it was suddenly lit up with string after string of violent cursing.

"_**Son of a-" ** _the comm was filled with static, overwhelmed by the slur of violent swearing coming from the other side. "_Just **stay there, **you stupid, brain-dead, son-of-a-bitch-dumb-bastard! I'll be there soon. This had **better **be **worth it,**" _He said, _"And you **better not move till I get there!**"_

The comm then abruptly shut off. A clear sign he was not in a good mood.

But he didn't have anyone else to turn to. He'd never get off-world with the data, and he didn't trust anyone who wasn't a fellow batarian.

Still, he'd have to to be cautious. He couldn't risk-

_rustle, rustle _

He stopped in mid-thought, his eyes widening in shock, as he focused back on the bush he'd shot, sure he'd once again herd movement from it.

_'Not possible,' _ he thought, fear creeping into his mind. _'I already shot it, and I didn't hit anything.'_

Slowly turning around, he moved toward the bush, picking up a large rock in one hand. Gripping it tightly in his hand, he drew nearer to the bush...

Then he screamed and tackled it, beating it repeatedly with the stone, over and over till he was sure it was vacant, or that the occupant was dead.

When he was done, the only thing left was a small, ruined mess of broken branches hanging limply from a torn stump, the leaves scattered around in messy piles, showing on signs of having ever been occupied.

Ro'sholl just stared at the smashed, ruined bush, panting, tying to figure out if he was going crazy.

_'No,' _he assured himself, _' I did hear something. I **know **I herd something!' _He looked around, high and low, yet still he saw nothing that proved him right. _'So where did-'_

His train of thought was violently broken as he felt something snake under his arm, keeping him from reaching his gun, then what felt distinctly like a hand pushed his head up, so he couldn't see his attacker, then clamped over his mouth, cutting off his attempted scream.

He tried to reach across with his right hand to grab his gun, but before he could reach the grip, he felt something pierce his back, stunning him as his entire body rippled with intense pain.

Then everything went forever black.

* * *

_PAGE BREAK(0)_

* * *

Vor'gall just stared at the recording Haliat showed him, as it played, in what felt like slow motion, the murder of his fellow.

For what felt like minutes, he watched as a shadow-like figure suddenly wrapped his arm under Ro'sholl's left arm, then pushed his head upward, before clasping his hand over Ro'sholl's mouth. He then tried to grab his pistol with his other arm, but it suddenly broke off and flew to his back, no doubt trying to stop the knife that had inevitably killed him.

Then, after Ro'sholl fell to the ground, the shadow-like figure 'dissipated', revealing, to Vor'gall's shock, a salarian, Clad in a dark gray jacket and a black jumpsuit lined with gray plates, his amphibian, double-jointed legs lined with several strap-on pockets, and an extra pack on each of his long arms, his hands each bearing two fingers and a thumb. His amphibian face, just like all salarians,was narrow and elongated, topped with two cranial horns, one on each side of the top of his head, frog-like eyes, with eyelids on the bottom, instead of on top like most beings. His skin was a bluish-gray, dotted with blue spots, and his eyes were a dark maroon red.

Quickly turning his head around, he knelt down to check the batarian, before moving to pick up the datapad from where Ro'sholl had set it, before he attacked the bush.

The salarian looked ta the datapad once, then turned an moved back to Ro'sholl's body. He pulled up his omni-tool, and started talking to someone.

"I found the batarian. He had the data. Not sure how he got it yet, but-"

The feed cut out, signaling the end of the recording.

Vor'gall just stood there, contemplating what he'd just seen.

Failing that, he turned and faced Haliat, his expression now one of barely controlled fury. His brain worked overtime trying, and failing, to find the words appropriate to the situation, and to his emotions.

Unable to do that, he settled for the basic approach.

"Why? What the **HELL HAPPENED?**" he screamed.

Not satisfied with the lack of an answer, he Violently grabbed Haliat by the frill of his armor, and pulled him forward."What was on that-that datapad that the salarian wanted? What made it so valuable it was worth killing for?"

Haliat stayed silent for a moment, casting a deadly glare at the batarian, contemplating the solution himself, as well as a way to explain it to his batarian cohort, without getting his flange torn off in a fit of insane rage.

"Well, for starters, if you could let go of me, I'll tell you about the datapad." he said, wrenching Vor'gall's hands off his armor.

After he was sure the batarian wasn't going to attack again, he steped to the side and leaned against a nearby tree.

"About two hours ago, someone hacked into the research terminal at site zero – the waterfall and pond we're excavating the 'artifact' at. Before you start getting upset, the batarian was not the hacker. In fact, I think the culprit was his killer – the salarian."

Vor'gall glanced back at Ro'sholl's dead body, suppressing a shudder at the assassin's blade still wedged between his shoulder blades.

"But why?" Vor'gall asked, anger still evident in his voice. "What the hell was on it that made it worth murder?"

Haliat glanced around for several seconds, then stepped closer to Vor'gall, and asked a simple question.

"Would you like to see?"

* * *

_PAGE BREAK(v)_

* * *

True to his word, Haliat took Vor'gall to site zero, taking him to a hill with enough of a gap to see the small rock face where the teams were diligently working to dig away the debris, so that mass lifters could be placed, and then transfer the 'Artifact' onto the frigate sitting parked beside the treeline.

And like so many others – nearly everyone, that is – who had seen it, Vor'gall could only gape in awe at the sight of the crashed battleframe, blinking several times, as if testing to see if all four of his eyes were working, then blinking them one at a time, to see if they all saw the same thing.

When he finally recovered his voice, he could only react as any batarian would.

" What the ******* **Hells **of the galaxy **Is that?**" he half-yelled.

Haliat shushed him, looking around to make sure no sentry drones heard him, before answering.

"That, my batarian friend, is what half the entire hierarchy wants to know. And what our salarian friend tried to stop us from doing."

He gestured for him to come further into the treeline, so the drones could not find them.

"Yesterday, an anomalous signal started transmitting on an unknown frequency in a language not used by any known race." He started, moving behind a large tree. "Later, we found out it was a distress beacon, set to go of automatically, when a space ship got close enough to it for it's signal to reach it."

He gestured back to the site. "Later on, two members of the research team stumbled onto the wreck. They were quickly debriefed on the situation – about how the discovery could sow chaos across citadel space, if not handled properly and discretely."

"And that's a load of varren crap, isn't it?" Vor'gall asked, as if he knew, "That was just to get them to keep quiet, right? Least till you could get that...Whatever the hell it is, offworld?"

Haliat nodded, giving an approving 'smile'. "You catch on quicker then I thought."

"You have to be, where I come from. If you don't learn the game quick, you can lose more then just your money and pride."

"I don't doubt it," Haliat said musingly. "And you're right. What we told the two who found the battlefreme was just a cover, and by the time they realize that," he smirked, "the frame will be locked away, and nobody will believe them without proof, which they don't have."

"But Ro'sholl did, didn't he?" Vor'gall asked, his shrewd batarian business sense, rivaling even a volus, kicking in. "That's what was on that damned datapad the salarian killed him for, am I right?"

"Not at first, no. The salarian probably stole it first, form us. **Then **the batarian took it from him." He gave a bemused chuckle. "He probably didn't even know what he had until after he'd taken it."

"Who was the salarian? Is he a merc?"

"I don't think so." Haliat said, thinking deeply. "He was using concealment tech – cloaking fields. That's experimental tech, not even past development stages, so he must have been using a prototype. Not effective in anything except extreme dark."

"Must be worth a hellva lot," Vor'gall said thoughtfully, "bet we could get rich just selling the scrap if got busted, but intact... hummm." he started running numbers.

"Indeed it would be quite valuable, but not my point," Haliat broke in, "My point is that he could not have gotten tech like that, unless he was special forces."

"Special forces?" Vor'gall asked, some worry in his voice, "So he's STG." Another horrifying thought occurred to him.

"Or worse... a spectre."

Haliat seemed to think about that for a moment. "I don't think he's a spectre. If he was, he wouldn't bother playing cloak and dagger with us." he paused, realizing the horrible connection he accidentally made when he remembered how they had found Ro'sholl's body.

He sifted his feet "Um, sorry."

Vor'gall sighed irritably. "Whatever." He muttered. "Okay, so since he hasn't used his council authority to kill us all, or arrest us, that means he probably isn't a spectre."

Haliat nodded. "So, that makes him STG, which makes sense, since this **was **a salarian expedition. His orders were probably to recover any artifacts or data recovered from them."

"You know that for sure?" Vor'gall asked.

"No, but it makes sense when you look at everything that's happened, doesn't it?"

Vor'gall said nothing, only nodding. Still, he made a note to keep an eye on Haliat. The fact he was able to 'just piece everything together' was very convenient.

Almost **too **convenient.

"But it's risky." Vor'gall went on, " When the expedition was formed, all races participating promised not to send any of their government's agents onborad. No exceptions." he he leaned against a tree. "I expected the council to try to sneak in a spectre, but I didn't think any of them had the guts to go it alone, behind the others backs."

"I'm not so surprised," Haliat said casually, "the salarains send STG behind the backs of everyone, even each other. I'd be surprised if they **weren't **acting alone."

"Why stop you though? They gain just everyone else in council space when this thing gets back, right?"

"It's not about how the galaxy responds to what we learn from it" Haliat said, "It's about who makes the discovery first."

Then it clicked. NowVor'gall knew why this was so important.

"You're cutting the salarians out." he said, sounding smug at how he'd figured it out. (not surprising, considering how, since cutthroat deals were normal for batarians, it never surprised them.)

"That's it, isn't it? You've never had the upper-hand on them before, and this is too good a chance to pass up." he said, "but they hid an agent on the science team, and he found out what you were planning, right?"

Haliat gave mildly impressed look. "Just about." he admitted. "He hacked into our logs and found out we planned on concealing it from the council, and the other races, at least until after it was back on Palaven." he looked back to where the site was currently hidden behind the trees. "When the signal beacon went off, the expedition vessel was retracted, and one of our flotillas was sent in to confirm contact. That makes this all fall into turian military jurisdiction, allowing us to withhold or release information to the council at our convenience."

"Except in matters that affect the status quo of the entire galaxy, like that," Vor'gall pointed back to the site, "and the potential technology reverse-engineering it produces."

Haliat nodded, "Exactly. The salarian agent didn't like the thought of the turians having that kind of power over the galaxy, over the salarians, so he copied the data and stole it."

"And then Ro'sholl took it from him."

"Yes," Haliat said, "Like I said, he probably saw him take the data the first time, then took it for himself later."

He looked over to the area of the woods they had come from, where the after mentioned batarian had been left, still lying dead on the ground. "And then the salarian came to get it back."

Vor'gall looked at the ground for a moment.

"... So...where does that leave us?" he asked tensely, "I mean, what comes next?"

There was an uncomfortable silence after that. Neither one of them said anything for several seconds.

"Well," Haliat said, finally breaking the silence, "I intend to take back what's ours. I'm going to kill the salarian, and recover the data."

Vor'gall watched him move toward the pile he'd left Hailat's weapons in when he disarmed him.

"You'll risk bringing the entire STG down on your head, you know." Vor'gall warned.

"I don't think so," Haliat said, "They weren't supposed to have any agents from any governments on the expedition. If he completed his mission and got back to salarian space, then they could risk being a bit more open about it, especially if they could change the galaxy thanks to it."

He turned back to face Vor'gall. "But if the mission **fails**, they can't ever admit sending him out, without suffering penalties for breaking the council's rules, so they'll probably just say he was a rouge agent. And if they kill me afterward, that will blow the cover-story, which implicates them even more, and the investigations will cause scandal for them." He turned back to the pile. "Also, seeing as he didn't even bother to properly dispose of the body, or destroy the evidence, this agent seems to be a raw recruit, meaning they were desperate, or overconfident. He won't be expecting us to have caught on to him, and that makes him vulnerable. "

"No," he said, "if he fails, the truth will be buried, and they can't do anything about it without bringing the council down on their heads."

"But you forgot something." Vor'gall said.

"Oh?" Haliat said, as he reached down for his rifle, "And that would be?"

_Ca-Click!_

Haliat turned to see his confiscated pistol being pointed directly at his head.

"You never said what happens to **me **in all of this," Vor'gall said darkly. "Just how do I know you won't put a round in me? I'm just as much a 'risk' as Ro'sholl was, right?"

Haliat did nothing to suggest he was at all concerned about how his own gun was staring him in the face. He just looked at batarian.

"If I was going to kill you, I wouldn't have bothered to show you the battleframe in the first place, now would I?" He asked. "Besides, you're not the enemy here. In fact..." His mandibles parting in a turian smile.

"How about we work that problem out **together**?"

Vor'gall raised his right eyebrows quizzically. He was silent as the grave for nearly a full minute.

Finally, right when Haliat thought he was just going to shoot him, he responded.

"If you're offering what I think you are..." he started slowly, "then you should know I'm not some merc. I don't do things for free, and revenge doesn't pay the bills. Epically if I'm putting my life on the line for it, which will happen even if the agent dies." he lowered the muzzle of the gun from his face, but still kept it aimed at his body. "You'd need to make it worth my while."

"Oh, don't worry," Haliat said smoothly. "I'll make you an offer you **can't **refuse."

* * *

_PAGE BREAK(0)_

* * *

The planets night cycle was now half-over.

But still, the recovery of the battleframe persisted.

The salarian researchers were just finishing with the scans, prepping them for overnight analysis while they started dissecting the servos and strange power cell converters recovered from the crushed left arm.

After that, they would set to work on the single most anticipated experiment of their assignment yet -the dissection of the strange, biped corpse found mummified inside the cockpit of the battleframe.

According to records taken from the computer, when the signal beacon was tripped by the expedition, it automatically triggered the cockpit to open, after, according to the log system, forty-eight years and six months in space, forty-six of those years spent in orbit of the planet, and one year and six months on the planet, which was why they had found it open, no doubt an automatic response so that the rescuers could immediately access the cockpit and give aid to the pilot.

It had survived reentry due to the fact that it had crashed during the winter season of this continent, as well as a large metal plate it had been magnetically attached to, which had absorbed most of the heat of reentry, although not all of it, as evidenced by the scorch marks lining the left side. The computer had contained a very primitive V.I., barely even that, but still advanced enough to manage the remaining systems and calculate a safe landing without completely destroying the suit, which was a marvel in itself.

Yion, their xenobiologist, had been fascinated on the anatomy and structure of the biped. According to the initial results, the corpse had been exposed to space for a significant period of time, and the extreme cold and vacuum had subsequently mummified the pilot, destroying basic facial features, but the body structure and organs were intact, which was all Yion needed.

From what they could tell at first glance, the pilot shared many of the characteristics found in batarian and asari biology. The pilot was male gendered, shared similar brain capacity as batarians, but had two eye sockets, like asari, and like both, they possessed hands with four finger digits and one opposable thumb digit on each hand, and five toe digits on each foot. Initial scans showed extremely similar organ, muscle, tissue and bone structure as well, but couldn't say precisely how much without an in-depth dissection.

Which would come after they finished studying the solar-converter system threaded throughout the suit.

As two worked within the tent, the third – a salarian with blue-gray skin and dark maroon eyes, wearing a gray jacket over a black and gray-plated jumpsuit – was busily examining the research notes transcribed on a, curiously, dirty and stained-up datapad.

The amount of data was staggering. Whoever had built this mobile framework had been incredibly innovative in it's design.

According to the schematics recovered from the computer, the frame was capable, through the use of multiple micro-jets and Solar-Powered Ultracompact Energy Battery, to be highly maneuverable, for it's size at least, and able to do so **without **the use of a mass effect core to reduce it's base mass, which offered greater maneuverability, and was key to all known combat craft in the galaxy. The fact that this craft could mimic that without access to mass effect technology was almost as incredible as the direct-to-energy ion cannon it was armed with. Using hyper-charged ion to create a fully-functional beam weapon, and the innovations in the technology it used – the preliminary scans alone would keep them busy for years.

Every Dalatrass in the Salarian Union would line up for the data, employing any and every cutthroat tactic in and out of the books to get it, and put themselves in a perfect position to take over as the next High Dalatrass of the Union, in being the one to have discovered the most important technological advancement since the asari discovered the citadel.

And Heranon Faltath was making sure one Dalatrass Sothol in particular, came out on top.

Sothol was overseer of the Emergency Special Response division of STG, making her one of the most powerful Dalatrass' in the Union.

And one of the most ambitious.

In two months time, she would enter herself as a candidate for Head Dalatrass. And in order to win, she planned to use the bankroll of the successful new frontier colony, opening up an entire new sector of the galaxy, and take credit for any, assumably prothean, artifacts discovered.

But what had been discovered here would irrevocably shake the known galaxy to the core.

Once the data was secure, Dalatrass Sothol would be regarded as a messiah, who would deliver the galaxy into a new age.

As well as uncovering the turian 'plot' to hide the data from the council, and the 'plans' to use the technology to overthrow them.

He smiled, thinking about how interesting the future was going to be.

He couldn't wait to see it.

He admitted, he was worried about the fact that he was a reserve agent, meant for search and rescue operations, but the Dalatrass was confident that no one else, not even the Spectres, would dare send an agent on the exploration. Meaning no one would catch on till it was to late.

The Dalatrass assured him that she'd made sure that no new rival agents would be on the frigate sent to recover the battleframe. He'd hacked to manifest of the ship, just to make sure, and hadn't found anything in the private files, so it looked like the Dalatrass had succeeded.

Not that he'd doubted her, but he was nothing if not careful, when it came to his own skin.

After Heranon was finished looking over the data, he put the datapad between some exposed roots, then moved to check on Yion and Gern, still in the tents examining the power conduits recovered from the crushed arm's elbow joint.

This was one of the more unpleasant aspects of the mission: making sure there were no leaks.

He had to make sure the scientists wouldn't try to publish any of the data, either publicly, to the council, or even to other Dalatrass'.

He'd taken care of the batarian problem. Now he had to take care of one from his own people.

He didn't like having to kill fellow salarians, but he had his mission to think about.

If he couldn't convince them to support him, and either destroy their data, or join Dalatrass Sothol, he would have no choice.

The mission always had to take priority.

"Yion, Gern, I need to talk to you, it's important." He called out to the tent.

No response.

Heranon frowned. _'odd,' _he thought, _'they must be busy with the motivator readouts. They get quite __buried in their work.'_

"I got a message from the Dalatrass," he said, not _quite_lying to them, "we have a new priority. We need to discuss it now, so would you please come out."

Still, nothing.

Something wasn't right.

That's when Heranon realized he couldn't even hear their tools running.

His instincts kicked in. something was defiantly wrong.

He pulled his concealed Edge-class predator hand-pistol, and knelt beside the open flap of the tent.

"Yion?" he called out, "Gern?"

Once again, no response.

He fought back the urge to start panicking.

_'They couldn't be sleeping, but they didn't come out when I called, and there aren't any other way's out of the tent.'_

He kicked a pebble into the tent.

Nothing.

He activated his prototype cloaking field, the opaque shroud forming around his entire body by reflecting light off his kinetic barriers. He edged around the lip of the tent, and peered inside.

The first thing he saw was Gern, laying face down several feet in front of him, his legs obscured by the dented, scorched research table, large puddles of soupy, green-colored salarian blood pooling around his body, from the fission tool protruding from his back, and dripping from the top of the table, where his head had been bashed into the microscope that had once sat there, now in pieces strewn across the table and floor.

Then he saw movement behind the forth of the six tables.

Even an idiot could see what had happened, and only an idiot would wait to strike.

He waited for the other to re-appear, lined up his shot...

He saw a head, torso-

_**BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!**_

A pained, surprised grunt, as the shots were deflected by the hostiles barriers, followed by the broken-glass sound that was associated with someone's shields failing.

_'strong shields,' _he thought, noting how the unknown's barrier had taken three sledgehammer Mk IV rounds to break. _'must be a military operative'_

Heranon wasted no time in dashing in, vaulting over the second table and aiming his gun over the top of the forth table, down at the hostile – now reviled to be a turian wearing black armor lined with stripes of gray, with charcoal skin and dark-blue facial markings.

"Don't bother getting up," he warned, "Your shields are down, and by the time they regenerate," he said, lowering the gun to his head, "I'll be too close for it to do you any good, and I won't think twice about killing you if you try anything."

The turian just looked at him, avian indigo eyes meeting amphibious maroon eyes in a silent stare.

"Who are you?" Heranon asked, "and what are you doing here?" he asked, relief washing over him now that the threat was under control.

Again, the turian said nothing, simply staring at him.

"If you don't answer, I _will _shoot you," he warned, emphasizing the point by pushing the barrel of the gun further to his forehead.

The turian, seemingly oblivious to the lethal weapon inches from his head, gave an irritated sigh, which caused the salarian to raise his brow-crest quizzically, before he gave his name.

"Team Captain Duras Haliat," he said calmly, "and you have a name, agent? Or at least I assume you're an agent."

_'well, he knows more then I thought.' _Heranon thought, slightly worried, _'I'll have to neutralize him, and thankfully, I can plead for ample motive, and probable cause,' _he looked at Gern's dead body. He looked around, and saw Yion slumped against the side of the containment tank, holding the fish harvested from the river the team had landed at, meant to be tomorrow's lunch, before the frame had been discovered. There was a messy green smear across the tank, and more covering Yion's shoulders.

Heranon didn't take any bets on him being alive.

"So," the turian asked again, "You're...?"

Heranon sighed, but answered him anyway. At least he would have satisfaction in knowing who killed him.

"I am Lieutenant Heranon Faltath, Emergency Special Response Division, STG."

"Emergency Special Response?" Haliat questioned, "You mean reserves, for rescue ops? What qualifies you for this, then?" he asked curiously.

Heranon sighed again, a hint of irritation in his voice now. "Normally, yes, we specialize in rescue work, but the Emergency Special Response Division is trained for **all **emergency situations," his eyes narrowed at the turian, "including emergency wet-work and field decisions, and especially for times of sudden conspiracy, like this."

Haliat raised a brow-plate questioningly. "Times of conspiracy?" he repeated, a slight chuckle in his flanged voice, "You really are a paranoid bunch, aren't you?"

"Oh?" Heranon questioned, "And how would _you _interpret this?" he said, gesturing around the ruined temporary lab, and to the two blood-soaked salarian bodies.

"I'd call it how _we _act in times of conspiracy, since it was **your **people stealing data from **us**."

"You were the ones who started it," Heranon warned, "you were planing to keep the data for yourselves and hide it from the council."

"And you weren't?" Haliat shot back calmly.

Heranon blinked. "We would release the data in intervals, so as not to disrupt the balance of power in the galaxy-"

"Which is no different then what we were planning to do," Haliat said, cutting him off. "The only problem is that you lot don't like the idea of being the ones behind another race," he accused, "There's no other reason for this bloodshed other then that you're jealous you don't have custody of the 'artifact'.

Heranon sighed. "Does it even matter now?"

"It matters," Haliat replied steadfastly, "since you murdered Ro'sholl Bakkel for the datapad he had, which I assume he took from you. For the same data you stole from us first. The data that was recovered from the computer we found on the mummified corpse inside the battleframe."

He paused. "The one detailing schematics on how to maintain the technology of the frame. That could be used to _replicate_ it. Which you plan to use to gain the upper-hand over all the other races. And that you're obviously planning to kill me for it, too."

Again, Heranon blinked in surprise. _'he knows far to much. And how? And has he reported to his superiors about this yet? The time it would take to arrange that many-' _his mind went on, calculating the multiple possibilities and how he would report back with them.

Finally, he decided to wait until after he had finished with the problem at hand.

"And how do you know what was on the datapad?" he questioned, "It could have been sensitive information to the salarian government, and could have threatened the entire galaxy."

"Did it justify killing in cold blood?" Haliat asked, his voice never losing it's calm.

"If you are referring to the batarian, I had no choice in the matter. There's no way he would have kept what he had found to himself. He would have sold the information no matter what we paid him, and he would have kept requesting money forever."

"Wouldn't that be better in the end, compared to the flags you'd raise by killing him?"

"Only a fool depends on the word of a criminal race like the batarians, and doing so is even greater folly then trusting a krogan with an armed warhead."

Haliat parted his mandibles in the turian equivalent of a smirk. "Like I said, you really are a paranoid bunch, aren't you?"

"Enough," Heranon said, getting tired of playing games with the turian. "Just tell me why you attacked the scientists, when you're quarrel was obviously with me."

Haliat shrugged, "Honestly, I thought they were STG as well, and besides," he smirked again, "I needed to lure you out somehow."

"You could have taken them hostage, instead of just killing them."

"And you could have done the same with the batarian," Haliat countered.

"like I told you, only an idiot trusts a race like that."

"And when it comes to salarians, you can never tell when one is a spy," Haliat said, a tone of smugness leaking into his voice. "You partner didn't look it, but he could fight as fierce as a varren."

Heranon froze at that, trying to hise his shock. "What?"  
Haliat looked at him. "Your partner."

"Liar," Heranon said, "I don't _have _a partner."

Haliat gave a look of mild surprise. "You mean... you didn't know? Huh... I guess even salarian can't tell which of themselves are spies either."

"Stop it," Heranon said, more forceful this time, "I know you're lying. If either of them had been STG as well, I would have known."

"Don't believe me, check his omni-tool log." He pointed to where Gern still lay on the ground.

Heranon still didn't move. "I am not stupid. As soon as I go to check on him-"

Anything else he had to say was cut off, as across the room, Yion's supposedly dead body jerked, throwing his head up and uttering a deep, pained gasp.

Heranon twisted his head in shock, and even the seemingly unbreakable calm demeanor of Haliat faltered a bit, his eyes widening in surprise.

"What?" Heranon gasped, instinctively moving a foot towards the injured salarian.

And in that moment. Heranon knew he had made a fatal mistake.

Salarian brains process thought faster then any other citadel race, but one millisecond can still be fatal.

For when Heranon focused on the injured Yion, he broke the cardinal rule in STG: never let personal feelings get in the way of the mission, and always focus on your target -no matter what, the mission **must come first.**

No matter how fast your thought-process' are, that one millisecond is all that is needed to turn an under-control situation into a disaster.

And that millisecond had just come into view for Haliat.

As soon as he saw Heranon move his foot and turn his head away, he swung his arm out, knocking away Heranon's gun from his head, and, moving faster then any common soldier should, grabbed the salarian's wrist and twisted sharply, resulting in a loud, wet, sicking _**SNAP!**_

Heranon screamed in pain, the gun falling from his slackened grip, but still managing to swing his left leg out, making full contact with Haliat's stomach, causing the turian to groan and stagger backwards, as Heranon fell to his knees, clutching his broken right-wrist.

His brain working thought-process' quickly, pulled out a painkiller and stabbed it into his arm, the dulling numbness reducing the pain drastically, letting him block out the pain as best he could, then reached into his coat with his remaining hand, and pulled out a short, finely sharpened dagger.

How the turian had reacted so quickly severally worried him, but he had to wait till after he was dead to think about that.

Haliat saw the knife, grabbed a nearby chair, and swung it down on the salarian agent, who deftly rolled under it, landing on his knees and driving his foot into the back of the turian's thigh, knocking him off balance and sending him to the ground.

Shakily, he got to his feet, and moved over the turian, raised his blade high-

_**BLAM!**_

and fell back to his knees, screaming in pain as an intense pain shot through his left forearm, a gunshot-round drilling a hole clean through it, causing him to drop the dagger onto the ground.

Now Heranon was on the verge of panicking. His right hand was broken at the wrist, and his left arm had a gunshot through the forearm, breaking a bone.

He was helpless.

Haliat straightened back up and walked over to Heranon, who tried to scurry away, but had trouble without any hands. But Haliat ignored him, bending over and picking up the dagger, then moving to recover the gun.

"Nice shot," he called out, as he folded the salarian's gun into standby mode.

The entrance flap to the tent pealed back, revealing a batarian, clad in a dark red and gray work uniform, and lightly armored maroon overclothes, a pistol held firmly in his right hand, and a dark look on his face.

"No problem," he said, "It was a pleasure." He walked over to Heranon, hissing in pain from the new wound in his arm. Hearing someone approach, he looked up, only for the batarian to pistol-whip him, breaking the bone in his cheek, and crushing the layers of cartilage in the left side of his face, sending him to the floor, hissing and seething, doing all he could not to show weakness to his enemies.

"That was for Ro'sholl, you son of a bitch." he said, voice dripping with malice.

"Steady, Vor'gall." Haliat warned, striding over to the wheezing, half-dead Yion, still desperately clinging to life.

"I don't want to kill him yet." he said, calmly taking out his black M-6 Carnifex Hand-Cannon, and levering it at the salarian's head.

"let me confirm something first. After that..."

_**BLAM!**_

Yion slumped to the side, a clean hole drilled into the left side of his forehead, right above the brow.

"Then you can kill him. I promise."

"I will never tell you, or your thug anything." Heranon said, trying to keep fear out of his voice. Vor'gall was about to retaliate, but Haliat put his hand up, saying "let me do the talking on this," to which Vor'gall nodded reluctantly. Satisfied, the turian turned back to Heranon.

"I said don't bother. I won't say anything to compromise myself."

Haliat made a "Tisk, tisk, tisk" noise through his lips, "You shouldn't be so sure about the future. After all, you said yourself that you were Emergency Special Response, a _reserve_, put in an emergency position you weren't fully trained for. It's not fair that that your superiors expect so much of you, when you aren't really trained for wet-work and assassination."

Haliat then drove his foot down on the gunshot wound in Heranon's left arm, causing the salarian to scream in pain.

"You really going to die for the agenda of some Dalatrass?"

Heranon froze.

"How do you know it was a Dalatrass, and not the Union?" he asked, shaking his head, trying to ward off the black spots on the edge of his vision, no longer trying to hide his fear.

"I don't." Haliat said, "but nether does anyone else. And that can be bad when you don't know if your enemy is one rouge element, or an entire government." He knelt down, looking Heranon in the eyes.

"What would the council do, I wonder, if they thought the Salarian Union decided to go behind their backs, and send an STG agent, who not only murdered a batarian member of their charting group, but a rival agent and top scientist as well, before he was stopped?" He again smirked, "What do you think the response will be? Open war? Censorship? Internal conflict as the Dalatrass' kill each other off, trying to find who caused this mess and scapegoat her, before the batarians come breaking down their front door? So many possibilities, he closed in further, Heranon feeling the turian's breathing on his face.

"And all because we don't know whether it was the Union being extremely sloppy," He paused.

"Or a power-hungry Dalatrass that was so ambitious, she sent a junior agent out, overconfident that no one else would be sent to keep tabs on this expedition."

That got Heranon's full attention. How he talked about "no one else"...

"I...I knew it... I knew you... you moved... too fast to... just be a grunt." he said through clenched teeth and labored breath, fighting the urge to black out from the pain and blood loss.

"who... who are you... really?"

Vor'gall watched Haliat as well, something in his eyes showing he, at least somewhat, suspected something else about the turian as well.

"does it matter now?"

"I demand to know!" The salarian yelled, in an uncharacteristic fit of anger. "I DEMAND to know! I want to know who sent you here, and why, because you are NOT a common soldier, and don't insult me by saying you are!" he yelled, his vision blurring from the strain on his injured body, " at least give me that small dignity before you kill me!"

Haliat straightened up, his overall demeanor having darkened considerably. For several seconds, he said nothing, staying still as a statue.

Finally, he took a breath in, then out.

"I.." he started, "am Captain Duras Haliat, Turian Blackwatch Special Forces Unit." he said coldly, his posture now so ridged, only years of service and experience in intense turian Black-Ops missions could have made it so. "I serve my primarch and the Hierarchy he stands for." he looked down on the salarian with a mixture of pity and disgust. "And I would have gargled liquid polonium before I sent a raw recruit on a wet-work mission like this. Your Dalatrass should have prepared for any and every situation. And I thought salarians were supposed to be the masters of espionage."

He grabbed Heranon by his cranial horns, and jerked him upwards, ignoring the cry of pain the salarian emitted.

"You weren't even able to figure out one of the others was another SGT agent."

He walked over to Gern's body and knelt down, firmly grasping Heranon's stolen knife, and started to cut into Gern's arm, removing the small, armored data-chip that served as the physical form for an omni-tool, from the implanted omni-tool sheath, just beneath the skin.

"Only an agent, or someone with something to hide would implant the tool into his arm. True, it's more convenient to access, but expensive, and harder to maintenance, then the standard usually built into clothes." He slid it into the sheath on his right arm, hooking the unit to his own omni-tool.

"lets read these logs," he said, "and see for ourselves. Together."

Heranon read them as best he could, forcing back the blurriness to see for himself what had been hidden from him, and to see if the turian actually was right.

* * *

_PAGE BREAK(v)_

* * *

When Heranon had finished, he slumped down, head bowed and will broken.

What he'd read...

It was far worse then anything the turian could have thought up on his own.

"Well, well, well," the turian said, surprise evident in his voice, "this **is **interesting..."

Vor'gall had gone out to look for where the salarian had hidden the datapad, but he had stayed long enough to see what was on Gern's omni-tool as well.

And had left the tent laughing at the cruel truth behind the salarian's mission.

"According to this," Haliat said casually, "You were to acquire the data, deliver it here..."

He smiled cruelly, "And then Gern was to kill you, and say you were a rouge agent, finding the data "destroyed" by the traitor, just before he heroically killed the rouge agent -you-, proving he wasn't true STG, in how sloppy he was."

Heranon said nothng. He just stared morosely at the ground.

"So in other words, you were chosen for this specificity because you _were_ so inexperienced in the field, just so that you could get caught, and the data disappears without a trace, to this Dalatrass Sothol, to help with her little power trip," he chuckled.

He walked up the the broken salarian.

"Your pathetic," he sneered, "And now, I'm finished with you."

No sooner then he said that when a round suddenly blew through the back of Heranon's skull, the salarian's body twitching once before falling face-down on the ground, eyes dead long before the shot killed him.

Haliat stared down at the body, then back at the omni-tool data his own was processing.

"Well..." Vor'gall said, the still-smoking gun aimed at where Heranon's head had been moments ago, "that was... satisfying."

"I'm sure," Halait said, still looking over what he'd found on Gern's omni-tool drive. "However, I thought you killed that scientist over by the tank?" he asked. "Or was that intentional?"

Vor'gall shrugged, "He made a good distraction, when he woke back up. Just needed a light current from a split wire, or... a shock from an overclocked stun module on an omni-tool." He smiled deviously.

"While I applaud your creativity, I would have appreciated being told about your plan." he said. "things could have gone very, very wrong."

"You didn't tell me everything either," Vor'gall replyed, "like how you were Black-Ops."

"I told you after we took down the first one." he said, gesturing over to Gern's dead body.

"Only because you couldn't explain how you took down that guy in_ hand-to-hand!_ And because you didn't think I would be able to see it!"

"Well, would you have trusted me to get to this point, and see what the salarians were planning if you **did **know?" Haliat asked.

Vor'gall stared at him, then let out a sigh. "No, probably not."

"Exactly. I kept you in the dark only until after I could prove what the salarians were doing." he looked at Vor'gall. "Wouldn't you have done the same?"

Vor'gall raised his hands up in surrender, "All right, all right," he said, "but now it's over, right?"

"Yes," Haliat said, closing the omni-tool, "and as promised, I'll keep my end of the bargain."

he then walked over to the table at the very back of the tent, where the pilot's body had been stored.

"I'll let you take the datapad with the battleframe designs, as payment for stopping this plot, and for keeping quiet about it, with full clearance to take it back to the Hegemony, to help co-produce our future models, after the first prototype is tested, and to produce your own versions," he turned back to the batarian and cast a meaningful glare at him, "provided you work in conjunction with the citadel council, not reveal yours until at least three months after our own and give exclusive trading rights to the Turian Hierarchy."

"Don't worry." Vor'gall said, a wide smile arched across his face, tilting his head to the left, batarian body language that was meant as a sign of respect, "I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize the deal that will make the Hegemony capable of rivaling every other race out there, not to mention make me the richest batarian in Hegemony space."

Haliat smirked, "I'm sure you won't. My commander is named Desolas Arterius. He'll contact your government on behalf of the primarch, after you return to finalize the terms of the deal." He handed Vor'gall a datacard.

"There's a shuttle on board that will get you through the relay in this cluster that connects back to batarian space. You're people will be waiting for you."

Voe'gall nodded and took the datacard, then turned and left the tent, giving a final farewell as he walked to collect his shuttle, saying "I think this is going to be a very profitable relationship."

Haliat turned back inside, heading to where the battleframe pilot still lay inside a sealed body bag, chuckling to himself.

"Indeed, it will."

He switched the light on, and carefully unzipped the bag, revealing the pilot's body, mummified in his own space-suit from being flash-rozen in deep-space, before his makeshift tomb was remotely unlocked by the beacon they set off, the computer trying to make it easier to rescue the pilot it wasn't smart enough to realize was already long dead.

He remembered how Vor'gall had been disgusted by the pilot, asking how such a primitive looking race, not even having four eyes, could possibly have been the builders of something like the battleframe.

He almost made a comment about how many thought the same about batarians, but decided against it for obvious reasons.

It had been a chore to ensure everything went to plan:

killing the STG agents...

getting the batarian to believe him...

planting the knife in Ro'sholl's back to incriminate the salarian, after he'd taken the real murder weapon with him.

That had been hard, yes, but it had all been worth it.

He chuckled to himself, before turning to head back to his own camp, activating his own omni-tool as he did.

"This is Captain Duras Haliat," he said, still smiling.

"Mission Accomplished"

* * *

_CHAPTER END_

* * *

**Wow. Long chapter.**

**Sorry it's mostly filler, but I have to get it out of the way.**

**Next chapter will introduce the turian mobile suit prototype.**

**Once again, reviews, no matter what they say, as long as they are honest opinions, are welcome.**


	3. PHASE 0: Prologue 3 :New Future

**Disclaimer: i do not own mass effect or gundam seed, their respective characters, or anything else besides OC's, OT(original technology) and OMS' (original mobile suits) Mass Effect and their respective characters, locations and universe belong to BioWare and is licensed by EA Games. Gundam SEED, Gundam SEED Destiny ****and their respective characters, locations and universe** belong to sunrise, Inc. and is licensed by **Namco/Bandai entertainment, and Madman entertainment. **

_**If i missed anyone, please let me know!**  
_

**NOTE: when a page break has (0), it means a time lapse. When it has (v), it means instantaneous switch-over from point-to-point.**

* * *

**Phase 0: Prologue/New Future**

* * *

_Citadel Tower, Council Chambers, _

_2147 CE_

_Fourteen months after the Artifact 634 'Incident'_

* * *

"And this, demonstration, is...mandatory?" Temora Keras, Asari councilor, and representative of her people on the Citadel Council, asked, slightly confused.

From the communication platform on the right of the council podiums, the enlarged holographic form of Primarch Caesar Quintis looked back at the asari, regarding her with a mesured look.

"Not precisely, but... I don't think you would want to miss it regardless. It would be a shame to have done so, once news leaks out of what you missed, if you don't come."

Standing on the council podium next to her was Desor Tazak, the salarian councilor, who regarded the message with cautious interest, and on the other, Vorak Gallos, the turian councilor, who was listening more intently then his companions, at the request that had been sent to them.

"With all due respect, Primarch," Desor started, "The Council has many responsibilities and duties to be performed every day to ensure all the respective governments of the Citadel, not just those on the Council, are-"

"Yes, yes, I know how hard and important it is to maintain a government that represents billions," the Primarch placated, his voice now taking a grandfatherly tone, "but, I assure you, what we are reviling will be felt across the galaxy. Members of each government in council space have been invited, and will be there: the Asari, the Salarians, the Hanar, Elcor, Volus, and even the Batarians will have representatives coming to Palaven to see. Even some Quarian ship captains are coming to watch," he said, making it sound like it nothing more then a simple movie presentation.

His eye glinted. "It would be a shame if our ruling Citadel Council could not come to be with the high members of their respective governments, on this, momentous occasion, don't you think?"

Desor said nothing on that.

"Well, could you at least tell us precisely what it is you want us all to see?" Temora asked.

"Now, now," Primarch Quintis said, as if he were chiding an infant, "That's a surprise, now, isn't it?" He said, seemingly oblivious to how much of her patience he was wearing away.

"If I just told you, you wouldn't want to see for yourselves, and you would most likely not believe it without seeing yourselves anyway, so there's no point in telling," he smiled, coming across as a grandfather telling his grandson about an upcoming trip, "no, you'll just have to come see the demonstration, now won't you?"

"Primarch-"

"Goodbye, councilor," he said, his voice still cheery, "and I hope to see you there."

The communication ended, the holographic image of the Primarch fading out of existence, leaving all three members of the Council essentially dumbstruck.

"He's playing at something," Desor said finally, looking at Temora, "He's far to excited for it to be just some demonstration."

She looked at where the image had once been.

"Agreed," she said, "he's put to much into this for it to be anything ordinary."

"And we don't really have a choice," Vorak said, rubbing his mandibles with his hand, "he's made sure it would put us in an... uncomfortable situation. If we do not come, when members of every other council race are in attendance, our own included, it would look bad on us, saying we do not care about the political functions of our own home-governments to make an appearance." he paused, "Crafty old crone. He even went big, and waited till the anniversary of the Unification Wars to hold the event." he mused, a hint of what sounded like admiration in his voice, "he must have quite a surprise waiting."

"Indeed?" Desor asked curiously, "am I to assume that you **do not** know anything about this?"

"_Should _I?" Vorak asked, his tone becoming defensive.

"It is your government, correct?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I am privy to everything, anymore then you are privy to all _your _governments secrets," he rebuked. "That incident last year with Dalatrass Sothol more then proved how often governments keep secrets from us. But _you_, of all people, should know **that, **_right?_."

Temora angrily shot him a warning glance, which he ignored, and Desor cast him a withering glare, and had he been able to call forth lighting to strike Vorak dead where he stood, he would have done it without a moments hesitation.

Indeed, it was a well known sore-spot for Desor that the Salarian Union had neglected to tell him how someone had tried to depose Head Dalatrass Ultera, and how STG had not told him about the agents sent on the team meant to study the infamous "Artifact 634", an unknown machine from an as-of-yet undiscovered race, which now, thanks to that "incident", was now locked away on some vault somewhere in turian space, perhaps even on Palaven itself, or one of it's moons. In all likelihood, whatever the Primarch was trying to advertise was most likely built from that "Artifact", and it burned him to know that rights to freely study it were denied to his people, because of what happened.

And because he felt he could have stopped it, had the Head Dalatrass _told him_.

Desor opened his mouth to respond, but Temora, not willing to endure any more foolishness after the "invite" from the Primarch, cut the argument off before it could start.

"Enough!" she said forcefully, "This bickering does not solve anything!"

She turned to Vorak. "You should know that just because we represent our respective governments, it doesn't always mean we speak for them as a whole. They may be the chief members of the Citadel Council, but technically, they too are separate governments that work together to make the Council possible. That means that they support us, but they have the right to sometimes conceal information from us, just as we have sometimes done to them. _None _of us are exempt from that fact," she looked at the two of them, "myself included."

she straightened herself. "after all, we didn't tell our governments about the Spectres until the Krogan Rebellions, now, did we?"

"That was your choice," Vorak said, "turians weren't discovered until the the war was almost lost. Had we been on the council when the rachni and krogan were first discovered-"

"But you weren't," Temora said firmly, "and like I said, we all have the right to keep secrets. The mission details of our Spectres are rarely declassified to the other governments, and our own do not tell us the activities of their own Black-Ops units -My peoples commandos, the turian's Blackwatch forces, the STG- until well after they are done, unless circumstances say otherwise. We ourselves have to requisition access to the files, and although we usually get clearance, we _don't always_ do."

Desor just sighed, showing his surrender to the elder councilor's logic. "Fine," he said.

"That's exactly what I was **saying **in the first place," Vorak said irritatedly, "and that like I said, I _still _don't know anything about what the Primarch wants to show at the demonstration."

"Regardless, like you said, we will have to attend anyway, if for nothing else, then to protect and maintain our image," Temora said.

"But the _timing _of all this!" Desor complained, "Ever since that incident with Artifact 634, we've had to start re-classifying our laws on the discovery and recovery of paleotechnology, now that we have discovered technology that _isn't_ of Prothean origin, and on top of that, the system it was discovered had to be quarantined to all other races, in case of encounters with the race that left it there, and because of that, we had to revoke the batarians plans for colony development in the system, after all the credits they put into it!"

"I haven't heard them make a complaint about it so far." Temora said.

"That's precisely my **point!** _Why haven't _they launched a complaint about it?" he asked, " they should be up in arms over it, but we haven't herd so much as a peep! Their **planing **something, and we **cannot **risk the possibility of open war with-"

"And you're too paranoid." Vorak interjected. "If they were planing something, they wouldn't bother coming to the demonstration, which the Primarch just assured us they will. And besides, inviting them to this will be the first step to repairing any damaged relations, correct?"

"We **cannot **just turn our backs on what could be-"

"I doubt the batarians would try anything so brash as an assassination attempt in such a public display anyway. Not in front of delegates and representatives from every race in Citadel space,"Temora said, once again cutting off Desor's rebuke, "so regardless, the matter of re-classification of our laws on paleotechnology, and of the Artifact 634 system and it's quarantine and colonization rights will have to wait until after we return."

Desor tried to respond, but failed to think of anything which to respond with.

"And anyway," Temora continued, "If this... event is as ground-breaking as Primarch Quintis says," She said, turning to leave the podium, "We may be very busy afterwords, clearing the political fallout."

She activated her omni-tool, and pulled her comm display.

"Tevos?"

"Yes, councilor?" came her protege's response.

"Have our shuttle readied, and get an escort prepared for immediate departure to Palaven."

"yes, councilor, right away." Tevos responded, the call ending with a chime.

"well," Temora said, as she headed to the Council landing pad.

"Let's see what the Primarch has planed for us."

* * *

_PAGE BREAK (0)  
_

* * *

_Apien Crest / Trebia System / Palaven._

_Cipritine, Capital City._

_2147 CE (three days after council invite)_

_Unification Day. _

The world of the turians, despite it's above average solar radiation levels, was not the "boiling" world many mistake it for in it's description, and was actually quite lush, resembling a large, tropical "hothouse" environment, while in others, plains of silver-gray mountain ranges and indigo-blue oceans and rivers dotted the landscapes, overlooked by skies colored a deep orange, saturated with varying levels of excess solar radiation.

Yet despite the constant radiation levels, the turians persisted. And in the end, they triumphed, succeeding in taming their irradiated world, and turning it into a thriving military capital, for not only their government, but that of the known galaxy.

One such place that exampled this above most others on the world, was the capital city, Cipritine, a great walled city, lined with towering pillars, every inch of it all seemingly cut and forged out of silver, built against a vast river that opened into the sea.

Nearly all the buildings were tower structures, and many angular metal plates lined them, giving them the appearance of being abstract, while maintaining a practical core design that clearly showed its military design-based roots.

To the near south of the city, there was a large mountain range, arcing across the landscape, and surrounded by patches of lush, tropical forests.

On any day, the city bustled with life, as military police monitored the streets, transports landed and lifted off, to either patrol the skies, or deliver goods or weapons from the many manufacturing companies the turians owned, and civilians wandered across the parks, stores and schools.

Today, however, the city practically burst with life, filled with more turians -and non-turians- then ever before in recent history.

Today was Unification Day, which marked the anniversary of the end of the Unification War, two-thousand, six-hundred and forty-five years ago, and was coincidentally quite close to the day the Citadel Council was officially recognized and treated as a true government among it's founding races, the Asari and Salarians.

In memory of these occasions, the turians were holding a large demonstration, centered in one of the largest weapon testing areas near the city, built and stationed near the edge of the border, close to the southern mountains.

The area surrounding it was filled with dozens of ships, many from different races across the known galaxy.

The smooth lines and graceful curves of the asari ships. The bulky, block like shape of batarian ship designs. The mismatch, almost patch-work, yet incredibly innovative forms of quarian vessels. The sylph shape and water-like flow of the salarian ships. The artistic, yet humble, forms of the hanar shuttles. The oversize, almost rural looking elcor transports. The stubby, compartmentalized -and admittedly, quite cheaply designed- looking-, ships of the volus. And finally, the plate-layered, avian bird of prey design of turian vessels, of some of the Primarchs from other sectors of turian space, coming to see what was advertised across the galaxy as their crowning moment in recent history.

Sections of the normally bare walls of the testing area were now hollowed out, the new bunker-like interiors, heavily reinforced to withstand any eventuality, lined with newly built grandstands, and heavy, transparent windows, reinforced with triple strength barriers, and, alternatively, should no one feel safe looking out something that would not be quite as strong as steel, vidscreens, for easy access to the cameras set at choice points across the field.

At the north side of the field, facing the large steel doors that opened for vehicles to enter the testing grounds, there was a private bunker, reserved for the Head Primarch of Palaven, the Citadel Council, six Primarchs from the other key turian territories, as well five asari Matriarchs, three salarian Dalatrass', a pair of quarian Ship Captains, four hanar Delegates and their reptilian drell bodyguards, a trio of elcor Representatives, seven volus Clan Chiefs, and finally, four batarian Senators, all of which would be attending the event, and most of which had just finished arriving.

The last to arrive, being "Fashionably Late" were the Councilors themselves, taking a seat next to the Primarch's seat. Temora and Desor sat to the left, while Vorak and Temora's aide, Tevos, sat to the right.

Temora had been the only one of them to have brought their aide with them. After all, it was no great secret who it was she was grooming to take over her position as Councilor would be.

But she had a reason for deciding not to sit with her protege for the moment.

For it might be the only time she might get to speak with the person next to her now.

Sitting to Temora's left was another Matriarch from the asari representatives.

And an old acquaintance -Lady Benezia.

She dressed in a formal, but striking, gray-gold dress, lined with varying hews of golden yellow, and a simple gold-tiara band that circled around a yellow headdress.

She was a passionate supporter of the premise of coexistence, but also thought the asari were too comfortable with their current system, which hadn't seen any major change in centuries, something that was shared by one of her old associates, Matriarch Aethyta.

However, they had not, to her knowledge, been in contact since the day Aethyta stormed away from Thessia, after a rather heated argument with the other Matriarchs about researching and building their own mass relays, saying they were "Getting fat'n lazy from being so damn dependent on technology they know _nothing about!_"

She had _some _valid points, mind you, but the way she went about it practically disgraced her in the eyes of every other Matriarch. And it wasn't helped that she also wanted to radically change current asari culture, having young asari start working in their governments and economy early on, instead of letting them build life experience by seeing what the rest of the galaxy had to offer first, which went against the typical asari way of patient political observation and broad philosophy and art.

Ever since then, Aethyta had gone to ground, and Benezia, as of late, didn't appear in public often, since her only daughter, Liara, decided to go her own path, and study archeology and ancient cultures, manly the Protheans.

For her to appear in public like this meant she was taking the demonstration, and what it could represent seriously.

Further on, to the far right, she saw someone else she recognized. Desolas Arterius, a top commander for the Turian Blackwatch Special Forces Unit.

Sitting next to him was another turian she did not recognize. A very young one, with silver-white skin, who couldn't be more then eight or nine.

But despite his youth, he didn't have a playful look that most his age would. Instead, his face was almost emotionless, like he either didn't know how to express them, was afraid to, or simply didn't want to. Far to stoic for a child.

"Pardon me," she asked, using it as an opportunity to strike up a conversation with the Matriarch, "who is that, next to Commander Arterius? Is it his son?"

Benezia turned to look at her, recognition entering her eyes immediately at the sight of her one-time acquaintance, met on Thessia once, before her promotion to councilor.

"That, Councilor, would be his brother." she said. "Saren."

Temora gave a look of small surprise. "Really? I didn't know he had a brother."

"I'm not surprised it isn't mentioned among the other high-ranking turians." she said. "Saren is one of the rare turians diagnosed with biotic potential. He's been promised to the cabals already."

"Oh." Temora said, now feeling slightly uncomfortable. Turians with biotic potential were normally treated with distrust by the others.

And it must have been even harder for him in general, since his parents had died in a terrorist movement that attacked Palaven, nearly two years ago.

"It doesn't surprise me that Desolas brought Saren to watch this demonstration. Ever since what happened to his parents, Desolas has made sure Saren has every incentive to stay with the turian military."

"So, what precisely do you think the turians plan to show, that could warrant all this?" She tentatively risked asking the Matriarch.

She smiled,"Well, Councilor, if I had to take a guess, then knowing the turians, it will probably be a new weapon of some type."

Temora frowned "All this for a weapon?"

"Well, perhaps the weapon is part of it," The elder asari mused, "It may be a new vehicle of some sort."

Movement came from the rear of the bunker, as a guard of turian soldiers marched in.

"But we will find out soon enough." she said, gesturing to where Primarch Quintis had just entered the stands. He moved over to his chair, at the center of the front line of seats, between Vorak and Temora, but didn't sit down. Instead, he tapped a button on the arm of the seat, and called up a small holodrone, which began transmitting across the entire complex.

"Friends, delegates, and citizens of Palaven, the Citadel, and of the galaxy over," he started, his voice, grandfatherly, yet regal, herd by every being that came to Palaven to see the event, "Today, we celebrate. Both for the end of the bloody and violent Unification War, and of the noble founding of the Citadel Council, nearly two-thousand and seven-hundred years ago."

"Had the war not ended, we might never become the military power we are now, which, along with the forces of the Council, stopped the war-lusting krogan from completing their genocidal crusade against the rest of the galaxy."

Desor groaned inwardly, at the subtle, yet not-so-subtle reminder of how the turians practically saved them from the rampaging krogan, fourteen centuries ago.

"Without the Council, founded to ensure the continued prosperity of the galactic community as a whole, we would not be here today, as friends and allies, but instead quite possibly bitter enemies, never knowing the bountiful lives we would have had."

"Likewise, if not for our continued support and goodwill, the Citadel Council would not exist, and we would most likely be in the grip of a galaxy-wide anarchy."

"However, recently, it has come to my attention that times of peace, however welcome they are, also breed times of complacency." he said, sounding slightly regretful, "Times in which leaders become so content with the pace of life, that they begin to become overly-cautions, never wanting to venture into the unknown, and thus, they begin to stagnate, never wanting to move from their "comfort zones", and take risk."

Temora was not overly pleased hearing these words, as they sounded far too similar to a certain Matriarch she had just been thinking about. And about how bringing change too suddenly could cause more harm then good.

"But sometimes, we must take risk, if we are to move forward!" he said, splaying his arms outward to the arena, suddenly sounding energized, as if he had just been coupled to a white star.

" Sometimes, caution must be disregarded, in order to bring us into the future. To take us to the next step. And today..."

Suddenly, there was a loud creaking noise, coupled with that of shifting machinery and scraping metal, as several alcoves opened in the ground of the testing site, revealing eight rocket turrets, and six unmanned decoy tanks.

"The Turian Hierarchy will be the one to take that step!"

The doors across the site opened, and, slowly, as light poured in, gradually parting away the darkness to reveal the form within...

"By the Goddess..." Temora breathed.

To her left, Benezia could only look in surprise, doing very well in hiding the shock that hit her like an enraged krogan.

Desor and Tevos did much worse at hiding their shock, Desor trying to speak something, but it coming out unintelligible, Tevos unable to manage even that, only staring in mute shock and disbelief.

From his seat, Desolas smiled, and Saren, despite the still-holos his brother had showed him, still couldn't help but widen his eyes at the sight, or keep himself from gasping in amazement.

All across the arena, in every grandstand, the scene was repeated. Numerous bystanders, members of every race in council space, stared in shock, surprise and disbelief. Words of every language, some naming their deities, others cursing in surprise, echoed from every space, as "Keelah," "Goddess above," "Spirits preserve me," "By the flame of the Enkindlers," and many more were uttered in the wake of the turians "step forward."

Despite all the commotion across the stands, no one took the time to notice the complete lack of surprise on Vorak's face, which was instead plastered with a large smirk.

Standing within the now revealed hanger bay, it's sides lined by thick scaffolding, and frame mounts, stood what appeared to be a tall, metal representation of an armored turian.

It stood at least nineteen meters tall in height, colored a steel blue, and lined with gray markings. Proportionately, it was quite similar to a turian soldier. The torso, though, was built more like a batarian, save for the armored frill, that stretched around and formed a shell-like plate on the back, and formed the turian side-profile, which was mounted on a boxy chassis that served as the midsection. Several thick tubes -two on each side- connected to the sides of the midsection, extending from under the plate of the upper torso.

There were several openings in the back-plates, which each contained miniaturized thrusters.

Each joint connecting the limbs, and the torso were metallic spheres, that linked the frame together through a series of sockets at the end of each component.

The hands and feet were built to be similar to turian ones as well -two toed feet, and three digit hands.

Like a turian soldier, the frame had armored limbs, shoulder plates, knee plates, multiple plates that arced over the torso and a head that looked quite like a turian helmet, with a mostly blank faceplate, save the thin, blue-white visor that held the optic and sensor suites.

Attached to the "Hip" was what appeared to be a massive -though, slightly different- version of a Brawler hand-pistol, sized to match that of the turian-like frame.

"This, my fellow beings," The Primarch announced grandly, "is the future of galactic warfare and defense." he smiled proudly, "This, is our Prototype mobile combat battleframe, the MCS-V01 Proto-Hyron."

He lowered his arms, satisfied with the result of the unveiling, and moved back to his chair, taking his seat next to his still thoroughly shocked associates, then tapped a button on the armrest.

"Begin the demonstration." he said.

* * *

_PAGE BREAK (v)  
_

* * *

"Yes, Primarch," the chief operator responded, immediately flipping off the magnetic locks that held the aptly named (By the maintenance workers), "Mobile Suit" to the scaffolds.

"Talik, you ready?" a mechanic asked to the turian pilot, just now finishing the warm-up sequence for the primary and secondary systems.

"Ready as I can ever be for this, so... Hell No," he said, a jesting tone in his voice, "but, I'm doing it anyway." He pulled his helmet on, and lowered the face shield, covering his mouth, only his eyes exposed through the transparent visor.

"Wish me luck."

"I think I'll wish that you don't trash the Prototype." the tech said.

"Ha. Ha. Ha." he said in a humorless tone, in response to the Tech's flippant joke.

He clicked the latch, three thick plates sealing the cockpit, leaving him in darkness for a moment before the H.U.D in his helmet linked up with his screens, the five panels arranged in a tight pentagon that snugly circled the pilot's seat lighting up, along with the panel at the top, to form a full 365 degree line of sight.

Then there was a loud 'Thunk', as the magnetic clamps disengaged, releasing the Hyron from the frames.

Talik took a deep breath, gripped the right handle, and slowly moved the frame forward.

The suit moved one step forward, earning another round of shocked exclamations from the assorted viewers, as if they didn't expect it to actually **move**.

_'Probably because they didn't', _Talik thought.

He took two more steps, still getting over how easily the controls responded. With the V.I. assisted control micromanaging the redundant systems, it really felt like the entire framework he was driving was an actual extension of himself.

He had spent the majority of an entire year training in a simulator, built off a refurbished version of the cockpit from the original battleframe, having to learn to adapt to the slight differences in control mechanisms as they were adapted for the Hyron.

Still, nothing could ever _really _prepare you for the real thing.

"Alright," he said to himself, "weapons."

A small, blue wheel popped up on the left screen of the three control panels that circled the pilot's seat, showing the offensive and defensive systems that were active. He pressed a talon on the icon that represented the battleframe's MS-5 Lancet class Firearm, a version of the Armax Arsenal Brawler-Class Hand-pistol, re-sized to fit the Hyron.

To those watching, the Hyron moved like a giant-sized version of a turian, It's movements flowing just like the real ones, as it perfectly moved it's hand to it's side, firmly gripped the pistol and pulled it out, the gun's frame "unfolding" into it's active mode.

"Observe," the Primarch's voice boomed around the site, "The Hyron is a fully mobile assault platform, that can be manned by just one person, yet retain more combat adaptability then a three-person squad in a tank, and only slightly more expensive to build."

On Que, a tank moved beside the Hyron, lining up with the left half of a training ground path, lined with obstacles, barricades and automatic turrets.

The tank moved first, rolling forward at full speed. Talik pushed the Hyron into a steady jog, then a light run, till it was even with the tank. Then he overtook the tank completely, pushing it into a full-on sprint, the mass effect compensators and V.I micromanaging perfectly balancing each step, so the machine would not slip and topple over.

Farther up the arena, three barricades rose up from the ground, blocking the path ahead.

Talik pushed forward, and the Hyron easily vaulted over the first wall, then slid over the next, and finally, flaring the jets on it's back, jumped clear over the last one, leaving the tank struggling to keep the pace, it's own jump-jets slowing it's momentum down considerably. Talik smiled, as he left the tank in the dust.

The Hyron made it to the other side of the 300 – yard first stretch of the field in half the time the tank would have, the after-mentioned vehicle trailing 146 yards behind him.

No longer did the crowd make assorted gasps of amazement, but instead, hardly any could find words that expressed what they felt watching the new turian-based weapon of war, only able to stare in quiet shock, as it single-handedly bested age-old conventional technology in minutes.

The Primarch took this opportunity to praise his machine even more.

"The Hyron's weapons, macro-sized versions of our hand-held mass accelerator weapons, can equal their firing rate and accuracy, while still holding as much destructive power as as a tank cannon."

Fourteen targets raised from the ground on the west side of the field, six behind small stone walls, and a long wall dividing the turrets into seven on each side, with four turrets and three tanks accompanying them.

Talik spun the Hyron, reacting as a life-like turian would, and, aiming carefully, demolished the first turret, and first target with five well-placed shots -three for the turret, and two for the target, then cored the second and third targets each with a direct shot dead center to the target mark, the MS-5 Lancet matching the rate-of-fire for it's micro-sized cousin, the Brawler hand-pistol, while keeping a damage level that matched the tank's mass accelerator cannon.

The tank worked to keep up, but it's machine gun didn't chew through the targets fast enough, and it's cannon didn't have a quick enough reload time. By the time it was through the second target, the Hyron had finished the fifth target off, as well as another turret, and one of the tanks.

"The Hyron," The Primarch announced, "in order to counter enemies in close quarters, also has been designed with a revolutionary new weapons system, built from ingenious innovation of existing, but seldom used technology." he gestured out to the field, "observe."

Talik moved the Hyron forward to the last two targets, getting to point-blank range of the two remaining pairs of turrets and tanks.

Talik swung the Hyron's right arm out, and what looked like an oversized omni-tool started to form around the limb, as several glowing orange holographic "plates" circled around the limb, locking together with a clicking noise.

Then suddenly, in a event that succeeded in rousing the crowd to verbal amazement once again, the series of "holo-plates" locked together and swung forward, forming into a roughly seven ½ meter long transparent, lightly glowing, wrist-mounted orange blade, connected to a small arm shield that ran the length of the forearm, suspended safely from the surface of the plating by an illuminated mass effect field, which resulted in it's light glow.

Once again, gasps and exclamations burst from the observation stands, as the superheated, silicon-carbide blade easily sliced the left-most decoy-tank cleanly in half, cauterized and melted edges lining the rims on each half.

The Hyron pressed it's attack, cutting the left-most turret clean off it's base, then moved to finish off the last pair.

The decoy-tank fired a round, hitting the Hyron's barriers and causing it to stagger back, slightly jarring Talik inside the cockpit.

Annoyed, he pulled out the Lancet with his left hand, and fired four shots, totaling the dummy vehicle, then blasting away an exposed target. The last turret responded by firing a pair of missiles straight at the 'Mobile Suit'.

Talik hit the thrusters, and the Hyron's jets flared, the suit deftly jumping over the missiles, hanging in the air for a split second, before, "Omni-Sword" raised high, coming back down, and, bringing the blade down on top the of the turret, cleaved it straight down the middle, splitting it clean in half.

The entire area, from the observation stands, to the private stand, to the grounds themselves, were deathly quiet, everyone's eyes transfixed on the impossible scene that had just transpired.

Slowly, the Hyron raised itself from it's kneeling position in front of the split halves of the turret, the "glow" of the "Omni-Sword" fading, at it lost power, the now-unneeded blade dulling, as the mass effect fields that held it together dissipated, causing the flash-fabricated silicon-carbide "plates" to fall apart, hitting the ground and shattering to pieces.

The Hyron just stood still, before, almost as an afterthought, raised it's Lancet and shot the last target clean through.

Inside the cockpit, a notification popped up on the central screen.

[_Confirmed: All targets eliminated_]

Talik breathed a sigh of relief, the turian analog to adrenaline wearing off, now that the rush of battle was over, causing him to slump slightly into his seat.

"Well," he breathed, "that was fun." he then gave a short laugh, happy he hadn't so much as scratched the prototype.

Navrak would have killed him if he had.

* * *

_PAGE BREAK (v)  
_

* * *

From his seat in the private grandstand, Primarch Quintis smiled broadly, at both the performance of the Hyron prototype, and the massive impact it had on it's audience.

Both of which had far surpassed his expectations.

The Hyron had completely blown away the highest expectations the techs had for it. And the high leadership for the most powerful races in known space now sat either stricken in awe, on quaking in fear at what the newly revealed "Mobile Suit" represented -Chaos. Change.

Revolution.

He turned to look at his "peers." The Citadel Council.

And couldn't help but smile at the sight.

Temora struggled to remain calm, several emotions vying for control, but none of them getting through. Next to her, Benezia was doing much better at keeping her face straight, though her eyes, filled with surprise and some shock, betrayed her calm demeanor.

Desor was unable to do much other then stare, although the shocked expression had faded, replaced by one of anger, at how, if his suspicion about Artifact 634 was correct, this could have been the Salarian Union's next greatest achievement.

Next to him, Temora's poor aide, Tevos, just looked out at the suit, eyes wide, like a child looking at the stars for the first time. If children could have strokes.

_'Poor thing just can't handle surprises.' _thought Quintis, slightly amused.

And then next to himself, Vorak stood out among everyone else, as he was the **only** one who _did not _have a look of surprise. Rather, he was smirking openly and broadly, like a krogan about to gut a salarian scientist.

Vorak had been one of the few the Primarch had trusted with the knowledge of "Project Hyron," the code-name of the mobile battleframe development project, an effort done in secret with the discreet aid of a select few salarian Dalatrass', and some top researchers from the Batarian Hegemony.

Vorak, in fact, had been the one who diverted the attention of the Council's sources, to prevent them, or the Spectres from discovering the project.

Of course, on order to hide his involvement with multi-governmental perjury and concealment of alien tech, he would have to, gracefully of course, step down as Councilor for the turians.

But his replacement was already selected, with the Councilor's blessing, and Vorak himself had already been compensated for his efforts enough to give him a comfortable, luxurious retirement for the rest of his days.

For years, the Council preached on stability, and that they were the pinnacle of civilization. That the galaxy could go no farther, without cornucopia technology.

That statement died several minutes ago.

Taking the spotlight, the Primarch sat up from his chair and walked forward, activating the comm system, to speak to everyone within the observation stands.

"Beings of the known galaxy," he started, "today, we take the first steps forward in years. For years, we have feared change, and the chaos it could bring, and thus, have allowed our cultures to stagnate." he gestured outwards.

"We turians now realize that it is not the future we must fear, but those that would keep it at bay. We cannot let that fear of "maybe" prevent us from moving forward, but instead, seize it by the throat, and take fate into our own hands." he paused, for dramatic effect, "And you, my fellows, must do the same. We stand on the dawn of a new age. But it can only happen if you let it."

He turned back the the Council, to speak with them on the matter, and on the behalf of their respective races.

"You miserable lying, varren-loving son of a-"

And not a moment too soon.

Desor was half raving at Vorak, trying his damnedest to reach past the armed turian guards restraining him and strangle the now-openly smug turian councilor.

"Desor!" Temora yelled, regaining her voice after the heated argument she had just herd, "Restrain yourself! You cannot simply accuse him like that withou-"

"He _**lied **_to us!" he spat out, "He _**knew **_about this. And he said _**NOTHING!**_"

Vorak just stared at the now half-insane salarian.

"It's true," he admitted, causing Temora to snap her head back and fix a shocked look at him, and Desor to stop moving, not expecting Vorak to admit his deception so quickly. Or at all, for that matter.

"I admit, I knew about the Hyron before you did. The Primarch informed me about it a while ago. I decided not to tell you though, since the Primarch wanted to surprise you."

Temora just stood there, in shock, while Desor went off again. "See? He **knew** about this! We should have been involved in this from the** beginning!** Do you know how it will look, when everyone finds out that this was developed behind our backs without us even_** knowing about it?**_" he raved, "We'll be _**laughing stocks!"**_

He shot a look of pure venom to both Vorak and the Primarch. "And that was your plan, wasn't it? So that you could blackmail us?"

The Primarch gave a hurt look. "Come now," he said, his voice far too friendly for the situation, "You salarians really suspect the worst in everyone, now don't you?"

"Don't patronize me, damn it!"

"Apologies," he said. "However, perhaps we should continue this discussion in private. I'm holding a meeting with us, and the representatives for the other governments. When they report back to their leadership, I'm sure they will want to link up with us via holo-projection. After all," He motioned to the exit, where a shuttle waited to take them, and all the other representatives to the grand Palace, in the city. "I'm quite sure we will have much to discuss."

Desor gave a look of hate, Temora a look of shock, and poor Tevos had no clue what had just happened, but would be filled in on the way back to Cipritine.

"Yes," he mused, "much to discuss, indeed."

* * *

_PAGE BREAK (v)  
_

* * *

Saren was still sitting at his seat, staring in awe at the Hyron, as it slowly walked back to it's alcove.

"Saren," he heard his brother call to him, "Time to go."

Saren nodded, sitting up and moving to leave.

"Brother?" he asked, "Will there be more of those?" he pointed to the Hyron.

Desolas looked down at Saren, smiling. "Of course there will." he laughed. "In a few years time, everyone will be piloting those, instead of slow tanks."

"Someday, I'm gonna be one, too." he said. "When I get into the military, I promise I'll become the best pilot in the entire Hierarchy! I'll get my own battle suit!"

"Battle-_frame,_" Desolas corrected. "or just Mobile Suit, like the technicians call it." he knelt down and patted Saren on the shoulder.

"And I know you'll be a great soldier, and a great pilot."

"And I'll make our parents proud!"Saren said, with more enthusiasm then he'd had in three years.

Desolas' eyes widened a bit. He then sighed and smiled again.

"Yes, you will." he said, with a tone of sympathy. "Someday"

Saren walked off with his brother, giving one last look at the Hyron.

_'Yeah,'_ Saren thought. _'Someday.'_

* * *

_CHAPTER END_

* * *

**Author****'s note: I know it isn't anywhere near as long as the last chapter, but this to be the end of the prologue arc. the next arc will be the actual first contact. in between this chapter and the start of the next arc, will be a list of codex entrys that detail how much mobile suit technology has advanced, and how much it changes the galaxy. (you will be surprised)**_  
_

**Also, I KNOW that omni-blade tech was supposed to be a human Alliance based version of omni-tool melee weapons, but I really liked the idea to compensate for the lack of close quarters weapons they would have available, until after the war. (Bad idea?) and it IS a fanfiction.  
**

**And lastly, I plan to release a one-shot that explains where the mobile suit the explorers found came from, and how it ended up there.  
**

**Reviews, as always, are welcome.  
**


	4. Interlude 1: Bridgework

**I am SO sorry for the delay, and I apologize, especially since it's not a main chapter going up. Over a week ago, when I was trying to upload, the servers in my town cut, and I lost half of the doc. **

**Anyway, this is in interlude. the next chapter starts with a scene from the human POV, and kicks off First Contact. As a result, that chapter will be quite long.  
**

**And I will make sure you don't wait as long for the next chapter!  
**

**Disclaimer: i do not own mass effect or gundam seed, their respective characters, or anything else besides OC's, OT(original technology) and OMS' (original mobile suits) Mass Effect and their respective characters, locations and universe belong to BioWare and is licensed by EA Games. Gundam SEED, Gundam SEED Destiny ****and their respective characters, locations and universe** belong to sunrise, Inc. and is licensed by **Namco/Bandai entertainment, and Madman entertainment. **

******If i missed anyone, please let me know!**  


**P.S: Idea of the Asari Colony attack on Asteria, the groups ___White Wave Warriors, ____Jaëto Calvary, __Olimpium_ _Foundries, __OrmasArtillery, __Veil of Vallem, __Avon Bastions, ____Inmhu__Mobile, and __Orrent Manufacturing _Works goes to Robo Reader 21, And a Big Thanks to him for Beta and assistance.  
**

* * *

Codex entry:The Prometheus

_In 2147, the galactic community was rocked to the core when the Turian Hierarchy, with co-development from the Salarian Union and -to much controversy- the Batarian Hegemony, developed the all-purpose bipedal mobile armor, a highly mobile biped-structured machine framework, driven by specially trained pilots, powered by a __simple yet efficient Hydrogen-oxygen converter style energy battery_, and armed with weapons generations ahead of the known galactic level, surpassing even the Asari, in the form of the MCS-V01 "Proto-Hyron" Mobile Suit prototype.

_The Turians revealed the development was due to a derelict alien craft - later discovered to be a mobile suit of human origin – crashed on an uncharted agrarian world, in what would eventuality come to be known as the Exodus Cluster._

_Turian,__ batarian and a select few __Salarian__ engineers, working on reverse-engineering the framework, could only recover partial amounts of data from the damaged computer core. What little they did referenced a development program titled only as, Project: Prometheus._

_With nothing else to go by, the title Prometheus was then furthermore used as the name for the then-unknown mobile suit. To this day, the Prometheus sits on the Turian home-world of Palaven, a constant reminder of how the most unlikely events brought them to near supremacy – as well as a dismal reminder to humans of just how much they unwittingly gave away to their adversaries._

* * *

_PAGE BREAK_

* * *

_Audio/Video log:#1: Day 1, _

_Chief Researcher Selene Acrlius_

_Menae, Palaven moon, Apian Crest,_

_2146 CE_

_:Translating to human format..._

_All right. This is Chief Researcher Selene Acrlius, Head of the Examination team sent to... well to examine and gather all we can from the Battleframe recovered from the Aegohr expedition._

_Well, to start, it is a marvelous work of engineering, despite the damage. I don't know how it was built without mass effect technology._

_The truly remarkable thing about it is that most of the technology used to build it is already available to us, and has been for a long time. It's just used in ways I seriously doubt we could have ever thought of ourselves._

_Also, there is the matter of the panels missing from the back of the machine. According to the schematic data recovered from the handheld computer the pilot had, there was supposed to be some sort of, collection pack, that was lined with solar panels. I half-laughed when I saw the description. "Ultra-Compact"? It was as like a ship generator that had been clumsily half-welded on! Subtle as a krogan battle-charge. This was supposed to be the power source, or at least how it replenished it, I suppose, but it looks like it's design is too primitive for it to properly absorb any other type of solar energy, other then that from a main-sequence yellow star. _

_According to what little we could get from the computer in this state, when it went beyond it's own system, it could not properly absorb solar energy from, according to the intact portions of the flight recorder, the Illpe red giant star that it passed by, explaining why it was so underpowered. It wasn't until it passed the yellow star in the system it was recovered in that it able to, somewhat, recharge itself slightly, since, according to the computer, anyway, the star was a similar, but not exact match for the one in it's home system._

_Also, from the flight recorder, which we accessed directly, we have found a, at least partially accurate, idea of were this machine actually came from. Perhaps the Council will fund another expedition, to try to find more of this tech. But after the credits wasted in the Aegohr fleet's recall, I wouldn't bet on it being anytime soon._

_Anyway, since the machine was developed to use solar energy, Photovoltaic Solar Cells, like the ones the Quarians use as a cheap electrical power source, should work just as well in getting the thing to run, so we can properly access the computer core, without the need for the, apparently bulky, if the computer module is right, backpack that was apparently lost when it crashed on that world. Indecently, aside from the few salarians we contracted from some of the more grateful Dalatrass' and -though I don't know why- batarians techs helping us to examine the frame, we've had to call in a few quarians to look over the cell compatibility rate and offer some insight into dissecting the suit, in exchange for one of our ships on the decommission line._

_Although, it was a pain getting them to promise to stay quiet on this._

_The unique thing about this battleframe is that despite the advanced and innovative design, the actual technology and components themselves seem to actually be quite primitive. Well behind the modern galactic standard. The only things that can truly be considered advanced, would be the power cell, very advanced and power efficient, yet completely disposable and replaceable, should it be necessary. _

_For the species that built it, at least. To us though, it's really nothing of note compared to commercial batteries it's equal size. It seams strange to think that this could be their greatest technological triumph, yet it falls quite flat compared to modern battery units.  
_

_And, of course, there's the Direct-to-energy Ion Beam cannon recovered with it. _

_To the larger galaxy, Direct-to-energy weapons smaller then the ship-mounted GARDIAN laser variants are widely thought to be impossible to build, at least with current technology. This weapon however, does exactly that, using ingenious energy combinations using energized ion particles. And does so at 2/3 the size and__scale of ship-mounted ones. at least in terms of actual internal components. Size-Wise, __with the bulky, and for us, unnecessary, external power packs and casing, and exaggerated barrel, i__t's a quite a bit longer then the suit, more then a meter longer then the suit is high, totaling at about eighteen meters. But the most remarkable thing is that unlike the GARDIAN,__ it uses an ingenious energizing principle to convert charged ion particles into a powerful Direct-to-energy beam. And, once replicated, could do so at the size of a heavy cruiser broad mounted cannon. This could reduce the heat build-up problem that plagues most ships!_  


_I've no doubt reverse-engineering it will be more difficult then the rest of the suit. But for now, one miracle at a time. _

_Starting with the frame._

_'__**ma'am, you're needed at laboratory 8.'**_

_Right, that's me. Singing off for now._

_- END OF LOG #1_

* * *

Codex Entry: The Mobile Suit: Origins and Discovery

_Originally a human invention, a disastrous first attempt at use of the Sol systems mass relay, which also resulted in the expedition abandoning the prospect of using it, until a time when they thought humanity was ready, caused a prototype, reveled to be the very first mobile suit ever created, to be sent through the relay, and, the computer following the beacon trail of a probe launched in before-hand, ended up in the then unnamed Exodus Cluster, where it was found by the joint salarian based Aegohr expedition fleet, and subsequently claimed by the turian military, since they were the presiding military on-site. _

_The true nature of what was found on that world would remain hidden for two years, until several months after the turian's released the experimental Proto-Hyron, after which they allowed top researchers from all governments to (highly-monitored) access of the technology._

_:For more on the Human Origins of the suit, see the corresponding codex entry on the Extranet, keywords: Cosmic Era, Mobile Weapons, Mobile Suit, Human._

_Also of interest, look up Cosmic Era, Mobile Weapons, GUNDAM, Human._

* * *

_PAGE BREAK_

* * *

_Audio/Video log:#2: Day 3, _

_Chief Researcher Selene Acrlius_

_Menae, Palaven moon, Apian Crest,_

_2146 CE_

_:Translating to human format..._

* * *

_We've recovered as much as we could from the computer core. _

_Which is to say, not much at all._

_The thing was half-scrambled six ways to hell. I have no idea how it was able get itself through the atmosphere of that planet safely._

_Fortunately, a few things survived in good condition. The flight recorder kept a good log. A bit corrupted, but mostly discernible. The initial read was surprising, to say the least._

_It seams the frame didn't end up on that world by chance, after all._

_Rather, it was following the trail of a probe that had been sent through ahead of time. It seems it thought it was following it home. _

_Not really it's fault. The computer was primitive to start with, **before **it was scrambled, at least by our standards. I'm surprised it got to where it did without completely destroying itself._

_Still, if probes were sent through the relay of origin before the suit went through, it might mean it was part of an expedition, like the Aegohr fleet. For all we know, that entire cluster could be riddled with these things._

_But, the Council's quarantined it, and put a blockade on the Relays leading to it. I would have thought the batarians would have complained about that, but they haven't said a word. _

_Guess the Hierarchy promised them something good for contributing the 'exotic technology' we can't legally buy ourselves. I'm a bit worried by what the higher-ups are playing at here. It's a big risk, trusting the batarians of all people with something like this._

_But, I'm just a scientist. No one listens to my opinions unless they ask me for them in advance._

_Now, in regards to the computer core itself, the few files we extracted detail some experimental program by, we assume, the race that built it. Apparently some form of Research and Development project. _

_As well as copies of what appears to be a manual of technical schematics for the battleframe. Which, according to the intact logs, was referred to by it's still unknown creators, as a,"Mobile Suit."_

_I like it. Much catcher then "Battleframe."  
_

_The pilot had it on his body, on a form of disk-drive. In regards to **him**, near as we can tell, his physiology is quite similar to that of Batarians and Asari, though there are marked differences._

___Like the two, this species is anthropoidal, with a fairly robust physiology, and internal makeup and reproductive organs typical of bipedal mammals. I'm told that the most unusual trait is that this race appears to have a far greater potential for genetic diversity then most other races. Not quite sure what that means, but then biology isn't in my field of expertise._  


_But I'm getting off track again._

_Now, the program files detail a Project: Prometheus. Not much data is readily available, since so little of the computer core's memory survived, but there's enough to get a base idea that they found evidence of external tampering in their development as a species, or something along those lines. Wouldn't be surprised if it was the Protheans. This was made to help them in space exploration, which gives creditability to the theory that it was lost in part of a mission of the same nature.  
_

_Still, I can't help but wonder **why **they needed to bring a **weapon**, then.  
_

_But, we haven't found anything that tells us what happened, or what caused the suit to end up so far from what was apparently it's home cluster._

_Right now, work has been concentrated to examination of the suit's framework and design. _

_That actually troubles me a bit. There's still more data -Terabytes of it, physical and extrapolative- that we could probably decrypt, but the higher-ups have ordered us off it, and have us focus on the prospect of reverse-engineering the suits technology._

_All I know, is that this is getting was too many stares from the top for my liking. End recording for today._

_-END OF LOG #2_

* * *

_PAGE BREAK_

* * *

Codex Entry: The Mobile Suit: Impact on the Galaxy.

_When the Turian Hierarchy released the Hyron to the galaxy, every government was thrown into turmoil over the sudden unveiling of a weapons platform that could best age-old conventional technology with relative ease, as shown by the live demonstration that was broadcast across the entire galaxy. Everyone, from the top of the Citadel Government, the lowest of the Terminus Gangs, erupted into chaos over the release. _

_For one month straight, and over the following three months after that, totaling in four months overall, the Council was trapped in political death-locks between every civilized government in the known galaxy, from the Asari Republics, to the Courts of Dekuuna, to the Hanar Illuminated Primacy. Even the Quarians of the Migrant Fleet, despite their insular society, were among those demanding access to copies of the weapons tech, which they had no doubt would be soon mass-produced across the entire galaxy. The only race not involved in the deadlocks were the krogan, and although they tried, due to the ban on having any starship-class weapons enter krogan space, their requests were quickly shot down. Much to their rage ._

_Mid-way through what is now referred to as the "Hyron Deadlocks", the Council prepared to pass a law stating that only races that could successfully manage the development, namely their own races, could legally develop and produce mobile suits in large quanaties, and conduct in-depth research into the tech. _

_However, this plan was foiled, as days before it could be enacted, the batarians released their own Mobile Suit: the X0085-HSD Trooper, built by the newly founded Hegemony Systems Defense, the Hegemony's newly self-legalized Mobile Suit Research & Development Division._

_Although the Council was livid at the Hegemony's actions, they were recused from punishment by the Turian Hierarchy, who, much to their surprise, had authorized it, and that they had been one of the ones responsible for co-developing the Hyron prototype, and maintaining the secret of it's development. This re-ignited the fierce debates among the Citadel races, now angered at the proposal the Council had planned, when the batarians had just built and released their own suit, and founded their own research division, as well as the turians duplicity in their secret deals with the batarians, with protests jamming Most of the Wards and Presidium for weeks. In the culmination of the "Hyron Deadlocks," each council race agreed to form one official Mobile Suit R&D Division, and to support one each for the client races of the Citadel._

_The batarians, while part-time partners with the turians, and unable to block Citadel inspections steadfastly refused to be put under the full-time total observation of the Council, knowing that doing so would bring the Council government to scrutinize their trade agreements with the Terminus Systems, and though the Council claimed it was simply to make sure that each government toed the line with MS development, the batarians claimed that doing so was a violation of their rights as a species, which all other governments agreed. Therefor, the Council then, in a last act to put safety restrictions on the new technology, devised the second Treaty of Farixen, written on the site of the first, which fixed a limited ratio for the number of suit divisions for each government, and a limit for how many suits each could build and maintain. The Quarians would be allowed to possess a token garrison, but were to be supplied by Council firms only, and, due to their "self-exiled" status, were prohibited from starting any research into the technology themselves, much to their chagrin.  
_

_For the following weeks, the Vol Protectorate worked endlessly for two full weeks straight,re-working the unified banking act, devoting their entire power base into it. They exceeded expectations, reading and re-working the galactic economy in an eighth of the time estimated. As such, the volus, for their selfless and immense action in preparing the galaxy for the coming revolution, by donating a large portion of their wealth to make it reality, were put under consideration for council member status._

_Citadel Mobile Suit Research & Development / Manufacturing divisions: (As of 2183 CE)_

_Citadel Gateway Arms: Citadel Council. (Spectre Authorization only)_

_Human Systems Alliance: __Olimpium_ _Foundries (Primary MS Development), __Kassa Fabrications/__Morgenroete, Incorporated MS division_ _(MS Development, High-Grade Armor Suppliers_), _Rosenkov Materials (High-Grade Armor Suppliers), Hane-Kedar Manufacturing (Stock Weapons, V.I Development), Ariake Technologies (Omni-Tool Systems), Jormangund Technology (Private Development Corporation), Devlon Industries (Environmental Sealants/Systems), Aldrin Labs (Militia MS Development), __Hane-Kedar Shadow Works, (Private Development Corporation), Flashpoint Innovations (Engine Developers), Martius Arsenals, Maius Military Industries, Asimov Design Bureau, Heinlein Design Bureaus, Clark Asimov Design (ZAFT Private MS Developers), Actaeon Industries, Adukurf Mechano-Industries (Earth Alliance Private MS Developers)._

_Turian Hierarchy: __Avon Bastions (Primary MS Development), Armax Arsenal (MS Weapon Developers, High-Grade Armor Suppliers), Haliat Armory (Stock Weapons), OrmasArtillery __(Omni-Tool Systems, V.I Development) Edessan Arms Development (Heavy Weapons Development), Terrax Solutions (Barrier Development, Environmental Sealants/Systems), Cipritine Armor-Works (High-Grade Armor Suppliers, MS Weapons Developers).__  
_

_Asari Republics: __Veil of Vallem (Primary MS Development), Shield of __Athame (High-Grade Armor Suppliers), Luvian__ Illumnate (Private Development Corporation, Justicars), Janiri Innovations (V.I. Development, Barrier Research).  
_

_Salarian Union: __Jaëto Calvary (Primary MS Developers),_ _Sur'kesh Strategics, (Government group, STG), Inoste Development (Stock-Weapons development, Component Developers), Orrent Manufacturing (Omni-Tool Systems, V.I Development), Rannadril Defense Logistics (High-Grade Armor Suppliers, Barrier Development), Aegohr Munitions (Weapons development).  
_

_Batarian Hegemony: __Hegemony Systems Defense (Primary MS development), Batarian Slate Arms MS Division (MS Development, Weapons Suppliers, High-Grade Weapon suppliers), Dah'tan Manufacturing Company (V.I. Development).  
_

_ Hanar Illuminated Primacy and Drell Nation-State: __The Unseen Defenders (Primary MS Development), __White Wave Warriors (Amphibious MS Development), Legacy of the Enkindlers (V.I. Development, Armor Suppliers), Guardsman of the Compact (Drell MS Development, Weapon Development)._  


_Vol Protectorate: ____Inmhu__Mobile Works_ (Primary MS development), Elkoss Combine (Component Manufacturing), Talis Fia Industries (Omni-Tool Developers).

_ Coruts of Dekuuna: __Thunawanuro Manufacturing (Military MS Development), Ekuna Development Inc.(Civilian MS Development), Geontenest Factoring (Component Manufacturing), Tenyeminwen Industrial (Weapon Development, High-Grade Armor Suppliers).  
_

_Unsanctioned __Mobile Suit Research & Development / Manufacturing divisions:  
_

_Geth Armory Mobile Suit Foundry: Geth Consensus. (Discovered 2183, during "Eden Prime War.")_

_Cerberus Dawnguards (code name of MS division for Cerberus Skunkworks ):Cerberus Network.____(Discovered 2183, during "Eden Prime War.")_

_Quarian "Shadow-works" (Salvager Guild): Migrant Fleet._

_Omega Factoring Plants: Omega Station, Omega Nebula, Terminus Systems._

* * *

_PAGE BREAK_

* * *

_Audio/Video log:#3: _

Day 12, Chief Researcher Selene Acrlius

_Menae, Palaven moon, Apian Crest,_

_2146 CE_

_:Translating to human format..._

_Well... today is a big day!_

_After the estimates given on the suit's capabilities, and test simulations on the tech we were able to replicate, the higher-ups have given clearance to work on reverse-engineering on the suit, and use it to build a prototype Mobile Suit of our own!_

_They've already given us more then enough funding to work continuously for years. And more then enough to keep the Batarians, Salarians and Quarians on the project quiet. _

_I've just now put in a request for the materials and components I'll need, as well as a request for a larger staging lab, on Palaven this time, to test the units in actual gravity._

_The Primarch himself is looking on this project. And I do not want to disappoint._

_He's been very interested in any new technology that could aide in stabilizing galactic power struggles. It's been a focus of his, ever since those rouge terror factions launched that attack, ten months ago._

_We've already got a base design on the framework for the "Skeletal structure" of the inner mechanisms and servos. The armor will take a little longer to fabricate, after all, we'll need alot of it, but it will be based mostly on pre-existing designs. I'd have to toy around with it, but it will probably look like a large, metal sculpt of a turian soldier, in medium armor, though not as **actual **armor, but... Off point again. Their will be some differences, of course, but nothing overly obvious._

_At least in regards to the first prototype. A second set of frame components was built, as a back-up, just in case. And so we won't have to start from scratch, if we get permission to continue with work.  
_

_As for the base minerals for construction itself, the metals themselves are easy enough to get, but there's been conflict which mineral to use as the base component to build the armor frameworks out of. Based on the servo schematics, and composite break-down of the original armor on the battleframe, it is a combination of several strong metals and composites, which I am confident we can replicate. We'll wait till we know about if the brass approves mass-production before we start using the military high-grade alloys.  
_

_The servo strength will allow tank-class armor mounts, and the multiple frame mounts provide numerous convenient mounting points for kinetic barrier emitters._

_Still, we have a few road blocks to overcome. First off, The power core. We created an amalgamation of the original battery pack by using a similar design based on Photovoltaic solar cells, but it was to large to be practical (Only large ships, with adequate reserves, or stationary buildings & structures typically use these anyway), took to long to properly charge and didn't have a combat life-span that would work in a real-time combat scenario, and the cost of trying to minimize_ _it was just not feasible. We tried using a typical, unaltered __Photovoltaic solar cell_ battery, but this was a failure as well, as even the most advanced and compact batteries available simply don't have a life span practical for a prolonged sortie. We ran the numbers, and the suit wouldn't be able to last even twenty minutes without the battery running completely dry. The core of the original suit, which works much like a large, rechargeable battery, is quite an innovation for something so primitive, having to do nothing but plug it in and charge for something so large-scale, but there would always be the problem of limited sortie time. The others have been debating on how to rectify this, by either using radioactives and build it around a nuclear fission reactor, or use the more common Hydrogen-Oxygen cells from modern tanks which, despite being more limited in power, would be easier to build, mass-produce and maintenance then the nuclear core. And would overall be much safer.  


_Well, in regards to the power core, I'll ask the higher-ups on it._

_I'll log in on that later. Logging off._

_-END OF LOG #3_

* * *

Codex Entry: Rise of the Hegemony.

_In 2154 CE, Pirate groups under an allegedly rouge blood pack leader, Nakmor Trusk, began hitting isolated colony worlds and trade routes at the borders between the Attacan Traverse, and the Skyllian Verge. This peeked when the raiders launched a raid on the asari colony of __Asteria, in the Hekate System of what would come to be known as the Hades Nexus, using a group of stolen surplus militia-class mobile suits, intending to take the colonists as pleasure slaves to be sold off on Omega._

_Prior to the raid, however, a pair of batarian trading vessels were offloading from a contracted supply run, and were on planet when Trusk started his assault. At the behest of the then-defenseless colony, the batarians called in reinforcement from their home systems, which, just as the pirates were preparing to take colonists, promptly engaged the pirates. Batarian Special Intervention Unit mobile suit teams quickly outmaneuvered the bulky, outdated pirate ships, and swiftly destroyed them, while ground teams, accompanied by a mobile suit support squad, devastated the pirates on ground and killed Trusk._

_The batarians, while initially acting out of self interest for their trade vessels, found themselves thrust into the role of heroes by the colonists. The Asari Republics, grateful for the assistance, offered commendations for the batarians involved in saving the colony, and in return, the Hegemony offered to grant cheep, yet comfortable protection for other colony worlds in the borders of the Traverse, to which the asari agreed, their knowledge of the pirate gangs and their attack routes becoming invaluable. This agreement would allow the batarians to patrol the borders, acting as a cushion between them and the more violent Terminus Systems, and should they attack, the batarian ships will be able to quickly alert any nearby colonies, so that they will not be caught unawares._

_Despite their conflicts with the ever-expanding humanity, the batarians have, to maintain good graces with the Council governments, prevented several attacks on local colonies in the area, and remain on fairly good terms with the asari, turian, and hanar governments, even though they have not done enough to be considered or treated as more then, according to volus diplomats, a heavy armed Private Military Company._

* * *

_PAGE BREAK_

* * *

_Audio/Video log:_

_#4: Day 32, Chief Researcher Selene Acrlius_

_Menae, Palaven moon, Apian Crest,_

_2146 CE_

_:Translating to human format..._

* * *

_Have been too busy lately to make a proper log. This will have to be very short, until I can find time._

_Development plans for the frameworks are half-finalized. The parts that are finished are __ being passed through numerous assessments. _Word came back from the higher-ups. They want us to work on the battery design first. They don't want to commit nuclear materials yet until we verify on whether or not the suit would be a practical unit for multiple purposes, other then common work.

_Sure, the suit would the revolutionize construction and development industry. And miniaturized versions would be invaluable for colony defense and even C-Sec would get good use out of it. But only if we prove the practical applications of the suit for military purposes, **then **they would consider giving us permission to work an a model that could run on a nuclear fusion core. _

_But for now, we are to use nothing that can be re-purposed into a WMD._

_With the initial designs thus far, the suit's base form will be about... Nineteen meters tall. Sure, we can compact it and miniaturize the components, once we've got a firm grip on the construction methods and actualize the theories into practice. But that will come after we know if it goes beyond the testing phase. For now, our priority is just to get the thing working._

_After seeing the current designs, the higher-ups have given us the go-ahead to move into production stage for a military combat-prototype. Project "Hyron" is a go._

_Have to leave now. We're testing the proto-design servos._

_-END OF LOG #4_

* * *

Codex Entry: Modern Mobile Suit "Energy" Batteries

_Reverse-engineered from the remains of the Human built Project: Prometheus Mobile Suit, the battery was originally designed to draw power from a solar collection energy pack on the back of the suit. After the Turians came into possession of the suit, they disassembled the original's core and advanced the design, taking the converter systems, and fusing it with the Hydrogen-Oxygen Fuel Cell, energizing the hydrogen and oxygen vapors with an electrical charge, creating a durable power source with a higher, yet reliable power output, which was easy to both maintain and repair. The battery can connect to any fuel port, provided it is of adequate size, and use the converted Hydrogen-Oxygen mix to "re-charge" itself. Also, for the military, special ships, built from re-purposed fighter frames, nicknamed "life bringers" by turian pilots, can dock with a suit mid flight for instantaneous "fuel up" on the fly (provided that the suit in question is not under fire)._

_After the initial unavailing of the turian's Hyron Mobile Suit, the Palaven military was so impressed by the display, that battle-specified suits were quickly commissioned for development and production, leading to the modernized Nuclear Battery Core, mass-produced after the end of the First Contact War, that powers most present-day military suits. Nowadays, energy battery-powered suits are used by civilian suits, __private militias, and construction firms, the Hydrogen-Oxygen batteries are used by militaries and C-sec, and only __suits built for pure multi-enviroment capability__, or elite military special forces , like Council Spectres, or Salarian STG, are authorized to use Nuclear Battery Cores.__  
_

* * *

_Audio/Video log:#5_

_Day 87, Chief Researcher Selene Acrlius_

_Menae, Palaven moon, Apian Crest,_

_2146 CE_

_:Translating to human format..._

* * *

_I have been too busy to make proper logs. Finally got some time now. _

_Okay. First off, we've made great progress on the base frame design. The interior "skeleton" frames are about 42% done. The problem is that the joint servos are a little expensive to build for something this big. Sure, we'll miniaturize it later on, and it will be a snap to make in the future, but this a First-Gen prototype. Also, there is the problem of replacement parts. If it gets damaged in combat, or some other reason, the components will be hard to replace in a time-efficient manner. The original "Prometheus" Mobile Suit needed to have the entire frame around the damaged components unlocked and disassembled to properly repair damage. And if the damage was critical, forget it. The entire limb had to be deconstructed and replaced. That takes time, more then enough for the enemy to press an attack._

_I'm starting to think the Prometheus itself was just a prototype.  
_

_While we work on that, the techs are working on either trying to remove the framework of the original's cockpit, or replicate a separate one. With a machine this complex, we'll need a pilot with a lot of experience in advance. So, we need to make sure we have a working simulation of the cockpit ready. The overall controls will be quite similar to the ones in the first frame. There of course will be gradual changes as we modify, develop and advance the technology, but the pilot will be taught as we go on._

_The designs for the battery are past the planing stage, and we're working on development. In the meantime, we ran simulations from the computer of the original, and found the maneuverability was restricted outside of a zero-gravity environment._

_Okay, that's an** understatement**. According to the sims, the thing, if it still had both legs, wouldn't even be able to stand upright, thanks to that that energy pack __it had__. Too top-heavy. The legs would buckle under it's own weight. Even without it, movement capability in gravity was virtually non-existent. From the sims, the thing can't even take a step forward without tripping and falling flat on it's skid plates. An obvious message that whoever built it, did so with a purely zero-gravity environment based design in mind. It was never built to operate in gravity._

_Still, the overall designs indicate that movement in gravity **is** possible. In fact, if it hadn't been built solely for space movement...  
_

_And doing so without an Eezo core, even. If the Prometheus is a prototype, like I thought, it's creators, if they aren't extinct from some sudden cataclysm -well, you never know- ,would have certainly corrected this flaw, long ago.  
_

_And if **they **could built a suit that could work in gravity without the need for a mass effect field, we certainly can!  
_

_But, just in case, we've still requisitioned a fighter-class Element Zero core, for testing and installment into the frame of Project Hyron. We still need it for the barriers, anyway, but weather or not we need to install a core large enough to aid in movement is yet to be seen. In addition to the kinetic barriers, this will make movement in multiple gravity well levels relatively easy. We don't know if the higher-ups will authorize full development, but we have a second skeletal frame for the mass-production variant partially built and in storage anyway, just in case. Never hurts to be prepared.  
_

_We're still waiting on armor mounts. They're taking longer to fabricate then expected, due to the fact that no one can decide on which way to improve the composition of the armor. Also, the control systems for the cockpit are still in development, as we have several pilots lined up to test the simulator, once we have it working. Which could be a while._

_Also, we finally found a power source capable of running the suit. It was so simple! We combined the power core system with a Hydrogen-Oxygen fuel cell system, utilizing the hyper charged vapors to increase the power output exponentially, without needing to increase the size of the cell. it is a proven tech, with a bit of a new spin, and the energy stabilizers the quarians and salarians helped built will prevent any possibly fatal overloads. This will fuel the suit for over a full day sortie.  
_

_It will be some time before I can make another log. I have research notes, of course, but logs like these, I can only make sparingly. And it might be a while before the next one. _

_But until then, I am signing off._

_-END OF LOG #5_

* * *

_Audio/Video log:#6_

_Day 219, Chief Researcher Selene Acrlius_

_Menae, Palaven moon, Apian Crest,_

_2147 CE_

_:Translating to human format..._

* * *

_I can't believe it's been seven months since this started. It's been so long since my last proper log entry._

_Well, to start off..._

_We made great strides in the development of the suit. Several of the problems that plagued us in my last log are no longer problems._

_To start out, the problem of easily replacing damaged limbs and components was solved, and in doing so, increased the maneuverability of the suits movements. To elaborate, instead of using servos to completely build the joints, each joint is made into a spherical "ball joint" that contains the just necessary servo units for that limb. Each joint has a receptacle at the "polls," where they attach to the limb sockets, and are magnetically locked in. The easier rotation factor of the joints drastically increased the flexibility and maneuverability of the limbs, allowing them to be pushed to the limit without the fear of severely damaging the limbs. _

_This also allows the suit to easily detach a damaged limb if it is severely damaged, allowing easy replacement of the damaged unit, and also allowing it to quickly sortie back into battle, while the detached limb is, if possible, repaired and put into storage, until used again._

_The interior framework is complete, and we are now working full time on the exterior plates and armor mounts, which are about 55% done. Sensors are now in the beginning stage of implement. The cockpit is almost fully wired into the frame, and in the meantime, we have several pilots going back and forth with training on the simulator. The top score so far belongs to Talik Adas, a fighter pilot from the station overlooking the small colony on the penal world Gellix, out in the Minos Wasteland. Not a glamorous background, but he has skill, and has shown a high adaptability to the controls of Project Hyron._

_The weapons systems are nearly ready. A lot of our people thought it would be impossible to build a weapon that was large enough for the Hyron to use, while still maintaining the high rate of fire standard to hand-held firearms. Thanks to the tech recovered from the Prometheus Suit's weapon, that is no longer the case. The components, while basically primitive, were amazingly innovative, and rebuilding the tech with modern components resulted in a tech breakthrough that, if properly utilized, could not only result in the eventual mass-production of Direct-to-Energy beam weapons, but improve the effectiveness of modern Mass Accelerator weapons as well, miniaturizing ship version even further. A dreadnought could carry two, or maybe even **three **main guns! An amazing breakthrough, indeed!_

_but we are to focus on the suit. _

_One revolutionary, galaxy-shaking event at a time. Because who knows how many the galaxy can take at once._

_We've also been working on the installation of the Eezo core into the frame, and the option to toggle it on and off, to aid in sudden gravity changes.  
_

_In addition to the "Eezo" core, in case any future models need to deploy into different gravity wells on a daily basis, we've been toying with the jump-jet systems of one of the newer tank prototypes. The Quarian tech, Xen, I think his name is, had the idea of threading a set of jump-jets into the back of the suit, and the base of the legs, coupling it with the Eezo core to aid in bypassing rough terrain. He gave us a very detailed estimate, and we'd have to run it through, but his calculations seem sound. I'll have to think it over._

_That's all for now. Won't make another log for a bit._

_-END OF LOG #6_

* * *

_PAGE BREAK_

* * *

Shadow Broker Archives: CLASSIFIED LOG: Omni Tool Audio Transcript between Commander Desolas Arterius and Captain Duras Haliat.: 2146 CE.

Duras: This is Captain Duras Haliat. Mission Accomplished.

Desolas: It's done, then?

Duras: The salarians are neutralized.

Desolas: And the batarian?

Duras: Heading to the ship to take the shuttle. He'll be bound for Khar'shan within the hour.

Desolas: You've made sure he suspects nothing?

Duras: He took the bait completely. Even if he suspects something, I doubt he'll act on it.

Desolas: Glad to see it wasn't too taxing on you.

Duras: I admit, it was a pain. Especially planting that fake murder weapon on the batarian, after the salarian took the real one with him. Making sure it matched my recording was a bit of a bother.

Desolas: Yes, about that... didn't he question that? About how you _got _that recording? Omni Tools are quite advanced nowadays, I know, but they aren't that advanced as to record a full video like that. It can hold the data, sure, but the micro recorder in them is built to take still-frames only, and can't do otherwise without specialized external software. It can't handle that many frames per-second on it's own, and if it could, it would never be a high enough resolution as to get the video you had. Didn't he wonder how you got it?

Duras: If he did, he never questioned me on it. Fortunately, I was able to distract him long enough to recover the bug I'd planted on the tree.

Desolas: Yes, that was lucky. I would not have envied you, if you'd had to explain just _how _you knew where Ro'sholl would be, or how you had the impossible foresight to know precisely _where _to plant a bug at all. Fortunately, he appears to have not figured out that Ro'sholl had some help in his untimely demise. After all, _you _were the one who acted as his contact inside the camp, andthe one who led him to the data that the salarians were after.

Duras: Yes, I know. I also know that unlike Vor'gall, Ro'sholl would never have kept this secret. He would have sold it to whoever payed highest for it. Could you imagine if someone like Aria T'Loak was the first one to produce something like this?

Desolas: I'd rather not. Then again, What she'd do with them would probably get the Council do do what we should have done a long time ago, and clear out the Terminus. Don't worry- It's wishful thinking. We could never take a risk like that without it backfiring on us. And with these at her side, she'd probably win.

Duras: Spirits forbid.

Desolas: But that's what you stopped from happening. By giving the data to him, you threw that amateur agent of your trail, and when he took him out for us, it plugged our potential leak and convinced Vor'gall to align with us, neutralized the salarian threat, and secured a mutual, if not short term, alliance with the batarians. An admirable job, indeed.

Duras: It was a pain to get Ro'sholl to trust me in the first place, then pass the data to him without that idiot agent, or the STG operative knowing.

Desolas: Regardless, you did splendidly. I'll be waiting your return home, Captain.

Duras: Yes, sir.

Desolas: Commander Arterius, out.

-End Transcript.

* * *

_Audio/Video log:#7_

_Day 363, Chief Researcher Selene Acrlius_

_Menae, Palaven moon, Apian Crest,_

_2147 CE_

_:Translating to human format..._

* * *

_Well, this is it. Project Hyron is entering it's final stage._

_The frameworks are complete, and fully assembled. Talik has logged in full hours on the simulator, and is now on a test rum to get his bearings on full movement, down on Palaven.  
_

_The Hyron is fully assembled, weapons are ready, kinetic barriers are reading full strength, the cockpit is wired in, and preparations are complete. Energy core is fully charged and the "HydrOx" cells are at optimum levels, jump-jet systems are go. Movement systems are go, responsiveness checks have passed, V.I. Auto-balancing systems are complete and ready. We've tested every system. All that remains is the demonstration._

_This may be my last log. Until we hear from the Primarch in two months time, we have nothing else to do. Every test we can possibly think of at this point in time have been done. Twice! The Prototype is as ready as we can make it.  
_

_But depending on if the test is successful, the Primarch may order the continued development of the suit. I think that is his plan, at least. We have succeeded beyond our initial plans, and built a machine that on it's own as is, would lead us into the next age. I, personally, have no doubt that the Hyron will perform above and beyond expectations._

_Weather or not the leaders of the galaxy agree, remains to be seen._

_-END OF LOG #7_

* * *

_Audio/Video log:#8_

_Day 434, Chief Researcher Selene Acrlius_

_Menae, Palaven moon, Apian Crest,_

_2147 CE_

_:Translating to human format..._

* * *

_We did it! The Proto-Hyron Blew away all our expectations, even mine! The Primarch has already requested that we go into Research into improving the design, Starting with the zero-gravity maneuverability possibilities. __We've already started working on designs for mass production and with all the data we've gathered form the prototype, they're guaranteed to turn the military into a force unseen in the galaxy. _We also already started on using the data to miniaturize the frame. By my calculations, we can successfully shave off at least a full meter. And that's just in four to six months! In a year, we could probably compact them even more! We've already been given funding to continue on for more the long enough! Although, some of the other aliens have to leave, to help start similar divisions in the other governments, the quarians are staying. I'm glad. I've really grown to like Xen. Not as a LOVER, mind you, but- I'm getting off track. The point is, we're not just some private group anymore. The Hierarchy has made us a full R&D Division!

_I have to go. There is a LOT to do and... Well, the results will speak for themselves!_

_-END OF LOG #8_

* * *

_PAGE BREAK  
_

* * *

_Audio/Video log:#XX_

_Day 47 Post-Human Contact, Chief Mobile Suit Researcher Selene Acrlius _

_ Kyrethov Base, Menae_

_ 21XX UH (United Hierarchy) (AKA: 2157 CE)  
_

* * *

_This log will likely not be heard for a few decades at the very least. I really shouldn't be doing making this. Well unless I'm ordered otherwise, why stop now._

_ Now I don't know how and, To be honest, I don't really care, an STG team of the Council managed to acquire detail data specs on a number of mobile suits and battleship designs of human origin. __along with other interesting technologies. With a certain few above the rest. __And what an acquisition it was. _

_According to the report I was given less then an hour ago, these certain machines were, along with __a counterpart __ ship, part of a development project call the 'G Project' conducted four years ago, finalized two years during the humans last war with each other. And they are, in their own way, engineering works of art._

_The ship's design features __ laminated armor, which is similar in principle to current ablative armor except that, instead of connected plates, it consists of a single piece. This concept is well known, and it is proven to offer better protection against energy weapons since it disperses the energy across the entire ships hull before finally melting, but it's also more expensive than ablative plates, and far more difficult to repair, which again makes it expensive. And this variant isn't on par with current formulas._

_What's really impressive is the ablative 'gel' system, a special heat-absorbing gel used to protect the ship from the heat of reentry. But it has the potential to be something more. The answer to the problem that has plagued us ever since Direct-To-Energy weapons were built -An adequate way to **defend against them! **We can improve on the formula, control its flow and consistency with nanites and mass effect fields. Direct-To-Energy weapons will no longer "peel away" __ the layers of armor on ships and suits _ so easily anymore if the barriers fail, nor cause fatal, or irreparable damage to armor. The potential here is just grand.

___The ablative 'gel' system is actually not so dissimilar to the ablative armor used in modern ships, but would be **extremely **easier to fabricate, and when **added to it**... They only use it in the event of re-entry to a planet, but the possibilities go so much farther than that! If they only realized._

_And that's Just the **beginning!** Positron blaster Cannons, 225cm High-Energy Beam Cannons, I__t's simply astounding how a race of newcomers, who haven't even begun to expand outside their home system, accomplished so much with such archaic technology!_

_And **then, **there's the suits. I'll start with defenses._

_ This "Phase-Shift Armor," is a form of electrically conductive armor that reduces damage from most physical attacks, even great amounts of heat. Reports says that three of these machines went through atmospheric entry and made it through with only minor damage. Now technically this isn't anything special, as all suits are capable of re-entry but in this case its an achievement. 'Course temperatures in the cockpit would make the decent very uncomfortable but not life threatening. As a cosmetic feature it gives the suit its color which can be altered by changing the power voltage on the operating system. Its a fascinating defense system, though it does have its limitation but, according the the report, the humans have developed new and more efficient versions that rendered the original obsolete. Wish we could have gotten more up-to-date data on those._

_Another form of defense are the shields. Not kinetic barriers, but actual, physical, typically arm-mounted shields coated in an anti-beam formula -I **must **get some of that. Ever since we developed them, beam weapons started emerging as standard equipment on mobile suits, and since then, we've been behind closed doors developing better defenses for our pilots. An anti-beam solution was one of the conceived methods but applying it to a suit is currently both impractical, and prohibitively expensive. But we've never considered such an antiquated form of defense as an old fashion shield._

_These humans really are resourceful._

___But the** true** prize is the offensive systems. Many of us already suspected that the then unknown creators of the Prometheus suit already mastered more compact, efficient and diverse forms of energy weapons. And how have they. From the ion cannon we discovered, we ourselves now have ____MS beam cannons, and have ____built semi-auto, and sniper beam rifles, and are going into full production with them, and, thanks to recent data, are now working on plans for a beam Sub-machine gun. The humans have created all that and more. The most innovative, and by far, unorthodox weapons being actual Direct-to-energy **melee** weapons in the form of swords and...**a boomerang. **I'm completely serious. I couldn't possibly make something like this up. The Salarians even got old combat footage -don't know where, "Classified"- of the weapon actually cutting a suit in half and safely returning to its owner._

_And I haven't even gotten to the individual suits themselves. Spirits, I think I'm going to pass out._

_The data on the suits the STG agents recovered is on five prototype units__ that incorporated the latest technologies and innovations of the time_, and although they are by now obsolete, they still offer valuable insight into the the suits they preceded. Well, most of them, anyway. Two of them aren't all that impressive, at least compared to the other three. One's a CQC type, the other is an Artillery type. The former was upgraded with a heavy armor system that also gave it a 115mm railgun and a 5-barrel 220mm missile pod, while the latter has an interesting feature in combining its two primary weapons into an energy sniper rifle or an anti-armor mass accelerator shotgun.

_Now we come to the star machines. I'll start with the transformable type. Beginning with the obvious, its transformation is more intricate than the Hanar's Silent Tide amphibious suit, or the other designs we've been shuffling around. The humans refer to non-bipedal units as "Mobile Armours" -which is quite contradictory, considering they have a quadruped machine that they refer to as a mobile suit- and this machine has two forms. The flight mode resembled that of a large fighter with its arms and legs becoming the bow, well thought out considering its beam swords are on all four of those limbs. The second is its "Attack mode", as they named, were the suit becomes a large four prong claw that can grasp an opposing suit and destroy it with its powerful 580mm energy cannon. That's the one flaw I can name, that it can only use it's most powerful weapon in it's attack mode. Such a flaw is easily rectified, Though I wonder if the humans have done so?_

_The next suit design is another amazing innovation, a stealth combat model. All of its offensive features are fixed/mounted on the shield on its right arm, and its left arm has a rocket propelled, three prong clawed anchor that can not only pull whatever it grasps to it, but can also use it to pierce an enemy unit. But that's all secondary compared to its "Mirage Colloid" stealth system. Many races have looked into stealth application for mobile suits, non more than the Salarians of course, and we've had mixed results, in trying to scale the still experimental tech to something so large. This technology uses microscopic prism particles magnetically suspended around the suit to bend light and radio waves, making it undetectable by radar, or even the naked eye. At least by human standards. We'll have to see how it fairs against modern radar. There are drawbacks however. In order for the particles to actually encompass the suit, it has to use the same energy conduits that generates it's Phase-Shift armor, in order to keep the particles glued to the frame, and __ continuously __keep up the charge, so that the camouflage doesn't degrade. This means that the "PS" armor is useless in this mode, making it vulnerable. In stealth mode it has to run as silent as possible, as the heat of its thrusters or the suit itself will set off any thermal sensors in the area, and even then there's still a risk since, as it needs lots of energy to keep those prisms glued on and active. Sensors could be able to detect the unique particles, and maybe current active sensors might work. Regardless of the inherit flaws its still a remarkable piece of technology. And according to the reports the STG gathered, it has other applications beyond the stealth abilities. __  
_

_But for now, I'll move to what I consider the true prize -the machine design that was named "Strike". A perfect name for a multi-mode suit design for maximum versatility, with its ability to switch out its specialized equipment for another, even during mid-combat, depending on pilot skill. This is all thanks to its hardpoints, its key feature, which allows it to equip any of its varying 'Striker Packs' -special design equipment- that allows this one machine to take many different roles in combat. And this machine has over seven different packs; outfitting it for high-speed, close quarters, heavy assault, there's even one that involves the usage of guided weapon pods. This machine is truly the greatest find. Also, It even has a companion fighter, that can equip the packs itself, or serve as the delivery system to carry an additional pack for it to exchange with. Unfortunately the fighter is not rated for operations in space, solely an atmospheric machine. But we could easily adapt modern fighters to match it.  
_

_Its design gives us an alternative to the limitation set by the Treaty of Farixen, as even though it sets a clear number of suits one government can have at a time, there's **nothing** prohibiting the number of weapons manufactured for them. It would actually be __even __more cost effective,and add to overall versatility. Even now, the humans have fully adopted the feature._

_While on the subject of these five suits, in an __interesting note, __reports says that these models acquired an unofficial designation, derived from an acronym of its operation system, which reads** ' G**eneral **U**nilateral **N**euro-link **D**ispersive **A**utonomic **M**aneuver suit .** What** a mouth full. And coined by one of the pilots, a hero from the humans last war, though I-forgot-his-name. When the first letter of each word is put together, it's reads out as 'GUNDAM.' The name's caught on, and now every high-performance prototype suit the humans make carry the name, and is even made to resemble them in a way._

_**GUNDAM.** I admit, I rather** like** that name._

___Now if you'll excuse me, I've** got** to see what souvenirs we** were** actually able to sneak out of the Sol System._

_-END OF LOG._

* * *

_**I am again, sorry for the massive delay. Had a lot of technical issues and facts to fix. Can't rush writing. Hope you like it, and I will try not take as long to get the next chapter.**_

Reviews are welcome. And for those who have been waiting, thank you for your patience.


	5. PHASE 1: Beginning 1 :The Discovery

**Hello! You're probably surprised that the update is finally here. I've had schoolwork up to my neck, and a technical relative (close friend of the family) pass away recently, so I've had trouble catching up everything. Now that the majority of work is done for now, the chapters should be more regular. The chapter itself had many revisions, between me, and my Beta, Robo Reader 21, on how to introduce the turians to humanity in a way they wouldn't forget. This is the result.  
**

**Disclaimer: i do not own mass effect or gundam seed, their respective characters, or anything else besides OC's, OT(original technology) and OMS' (original mobile suits) Mass Effect and their respective characters, locations and universe belong to BioWare and is licensed by EA Games. Gundam SEED, Gundam SEED Destiny ****and their respective characters, locations and universe** belong to sunrise, Inc. and is licensed by **Namco/Bandai entertainment, and Madman entertainment. **

**If i missed anyone, please let me know!  
**

**NOTE: when a page break has (0), it means a time lapse. When it has (v), it means instantaneous switch-over from point-to-point.**

* * *

**Phase 1: Beginning/ The Discovery**

* * *

Codex Entry: Artimec Exploration.

_Approximately eight years after the Aeghor fleet's recalled expedition, and the development and widespread production of the revolutionary Mobile Suit, the batarians petitioned the Council to re-open the "Artifact 634" system to them for colonization, and grant them "rightful custody over the planet" that the original "Artifact" was found on. Six months later, The Citadel Council __came to a joint agreement, and,_ for their services in policing the space around their Skyllian Verge border colonies, the request was put under consideration, and the batarians were allowed to set up a survey for the planet, to decide on possible colonization.

_Shortly after, The Galactic __Committee on Paleotechnology_ began a petition to launch an expedition into one of the nearby relays, under the premise that other remnants of technology, left behind from the creators of the original Mobile Suit, might be scattered throughout the nearby systems in the cluster.

_The Council agreed, on the conditions that only one relay be opened at a time, and that they wait a grace period of one year(Galactic Standard Time) before moving to another one, that all activated relays be opened in the "634" Cluster only, and that none of the relays in the destination systems, provided they have them, be activated._

_After an additional six months after the request, the small defensive flotilla, and an official Council exploratory vessel, set off from the cluster, using the small, newly-formed batarian survey site on the northern hemisphere of the "634" planet as their staging post._

* * *

_September 27, Cosmic Era 71. (2155 CE)_

_Turian cruser Artimec  
_

___3.5 hours before the end of the First Bloody Valentine War._

* * *

"Commander. They've started." the crewman said, as the turian in question strode down the CIC corridor. "Relay 634-A is coming online now."

Ship Commander Kivark strode to the cockpit of the ship, so as to get for himself a better view of what was known as a landmark moment in galactic history.

The activation of a dormant mass relay was a rare sight to behold. Ever since the end of the Rachni Wars, it had been forbidden for anyone, independent or otherwise, to bring one online, and the rule in doing so was only repealed when there was a need for new resources, or when a new colony world was necessary.

The most recent time any living turian had ever seen one activate was over ten years ago, during the Aegohr expedition.

For two to be brought online in the relatively short span of ten years was unheard of, in Council history, outside of the first wave of colonization done by an independent race, before they were discovered and brought into the Citadel government.

An obvious sign of things to come.

Kivark watched out the cockpit viewports as the dormant relay began to shake off the fifty-thousand years of inactivity, the gyroscope-oriented rings at the center of the fifteen-kilometer long "tuning fork"-like structure now starting to turn, spinning slowly, as a pulsating blue mass of dark energy began to form within the center-space of them.

Then, with a ripple of dark energy, the relay came fully online, a purplish-blue white _corona aurora_ effect forming around the relays rings, as it's position shifted 10-9 degrees, re-orienting itself. The sensors showed the dark energy emissions regulate, matching current readings for operational relays.

Kivark let out a breath at the, in his modest opinion, end of a beautiful, once in a lifetime display. "Status?" he asked, out of pure reflex. Even though it wasn't really necessary.

"Confirmed. Relay is activated, and primed for use." Crewman Jalias said. He turned to a small blinking diode on his console. "The _Janis _is now requesting permission to deploy the survey probe."

"Granted," he said. Jalias sent the acknowledgement, And the _Janis _immediately launched the probe, the computer tracking its approach to the relay. Within seconds of transmitting mass and transit information, it was enveloped in a mass effect field projected by the relay, and promptly sent through, propelled light years away.

Kivark turned back to the cockpit viewport. All that was left to do now was-

"Sir! Getting a feed from the drone!" Jalis called out. "It's already completed it's transit."

Kivark couldn't hide his surprise. _'Already?' _He walked back down to the crewman's station. Sure enough, according to the drones chronometer read, it had taken only 3.4 seconds.

_'That short a distance between them?'_ he thought. _ 'That's... unusual.' _Typically, the shortest amount of time between two primaries was a minute and twenty-three seconds, give or take. The fastest time for a probe had been 12.8 seconds.

This probe just broke that record.

"For data to be streaming this quickly... it's partner must extremely close," Kivark thought aloud. Something extremely rare, especially for a_ primary_ relay.

"The _Janis _says they're already getting data from the drone. They have a clear video feed put together, and are transmitting data to us."

"To us?" He asked.

"Yes, sir. They say they want us to see something. Apparently, something to do with the relay."

Kivark nodded, walking over to an empty crew station. Activating the screen, he nodded to the nearby comm station. "Ready. Put it on-screen."

On the display, the holoviewer showed a composite image, streamed from the probe's sensors and data feeds. The end result was the image of a small planetoid, just roughly over 2,320 kilometers. It's surface was apparently composed of dust-form ice and gasses. Data showed another planetoid on the metaphorical horizon of the system.

The image zoomed back in on the first planetoid, and on a smaller orbital body, now at the "underside" of the larger one.

But, what _really_ caught Kivark's eye was what was laying on it's surface.

There, resting on it's northern side, half encased in ice, was the system's mass relay. Gyros frozen in place. Cold, silent and dormant.

"How the hell..." He thought aloud to himself. Of _all _the relays to pick, they choose the one who's partner got itself stuck to a planetoid?

The nearest crewman, Comm officer Lokrin, made a preliminary report. "Scans taken by the probe show that the relay is, undamaged. However, just over 52% of it is buried in ice debris. The gyros are frozen stuck. Even if we excavate it, we would still have to wait till we towed it back up into zero gravity to clean out the gyros, without risking damage to the relay."

Kivark sighed. "Well, that's just _great..."_ He said with bitter sarcasm_. "_The expedition can't jump in, without spending days clearing out ice. We aren't manned for something like digging out a 15 kilometer cold object from the side of a damned dwarf moon!"

Kivark just sighed, suddenly feeling tired, before turning back to Lokrin. "What about life-signs?" he asked, "Is the probe detecting any sign of ships, or transmissions of any kind?" his voice slightly hopeful. Because ships and transmissions meant life.

And because if the moment they found a trace of life came, the mission would change from a over-glorified babysitting charge, into an actual _mission._

Lokrin shook his head. "Negative. Nothing detected at the moment, sir." A light on the console blinked orange several times. "But the _Janis _is requesting permission to send out another drone for follow-up data scans."

Kivark's mandibles parted slightly in pleasant surprise. _'it's rare to see civies -non-turian ones, at least- that actually acknowledged the chain-of-command. Or, maybe they were courteous enough to bring a few friendly turians abroad?'_

"Request approved. We'll let Mirrele's "tech-heads" gather whatever they can manage, but I want continuous status reports for every hour they take. And let them know, if they find even _one_ thing that they so much as _think_ is out of place, I want us appraised of it immediately."

"Understood, Sir!"

Kivark pulled himself out of the crew station he'd been in while watching the data-feed. There wasn't really any _need _to remain in the CIC to watch a simple data-feed, so, he decided to take a tour the ship, check on how the crew were handling being regulated to 'Escort duty'. And considering that they had no idea of how big the system was yet, chances were that they would be stuck here awhile. So, for the moment, the best thing to do, before retiring to his quarters, was to make sure they settle in and take stock.

And it helped pass the time.

* * *

_PAGE BREAK (v)  
_

* * *

Kivark's cabin was kept simple and formal. The most decorate furnishings were the red and grey-rimmed banners that represented his world of birth, and his former regiment before being promoted to ship command. Something he still wasn't really use to. A handfull of photos of him and his old company and family adorned his desk and small table. And then, lastly, there was his very first pistol, a battered, Striker-class combat pistol mounted on the wall above his bed.

Sitting behind his desk, Kivark was passing the time reading on the Sieges of Aephus and Macedyn, a set of major engagements in the Unification Wars. There were other pads scattered on the desk: reports the scientists had gathered, ship status, mail, and other miscellaneous things.

_Chime_

The door chime broke him out of his reading. "Enter."

The Executive Officer, Lieutenant Renalas, walked in, a datapad clutched in her hand. "Sir, the latest report from the civilians. They have finished mapping the system." She handed the pad to him.

Kivark gave it a scrutinizing look. "Eight planets," he read aloud, "four being gas giants, divided in half by an asteroid belt. A number of ice dwarfs like the one the relay is orbiting with, and a larger, secondary asteroid belt, made of ice and gas surrounding the whole system." he kept reading. " And the primary itself is a standard life giving star, main sequence yellow."

He looked back up at Renalas. "This is a large system," he said in notation, "No wonder they requested more drones to speed up the survey." He kept scrolling through till he came to a halt at the estimated distance between systems, blinking in surprise."Is this accurate?" he asked. Renalas nodded. He stared at the pad. "The system is only 30 light-years from here?"

"We've done our own analysis. Matching local star patterns with that of the data the drone collected, we have concluded that System 426 is less than three days away from the target, via conventional FTL."

"Well then, they must be absolutely _giddy_ on the _Janis." _he said, sarcasm in his voice. " The Council will petition a team for a long-term expedition, and _we'll_ probably be the ones they put in charge of security."

"A quiet job, sir."

Kivark let out a huff. "I Didn't sign up for quiet. But, complaining about it won't earn me forgiveness. Do this right, and we'll soon be back to prevention ops and taking down slaver scum."

Renalas gave a pleased grin, "I do await that day, Commander."

"Till then, I need to report this to the Council. You may return to your po-" The cabin's speakers chimed in before he finish the sentence.

"_Commander Kivark, we have an alert from the Janis."_

Kivark snapped to the console on his desk. "Report."

_"We're getting reports that the drones have picked up transmissions coming from the system, sir.** A lot** of tranmissions"_

Kivark stiffened, fully alert. "What kind?"

_"You **name **it: radio, microwave, lightwave."_

"Have they triangulated the point of origin?"

"_Not yet, sir. The signals have been __diffused __immensely__, but we did manage to narrow it down to the inner __ four __planets. The drones are narrowing down the transmission sour-"_ The crewman suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

"Crewman?" Kivark asked, not liking the feeling that was now coming over him.

_"Captain,"_ the crewman picked up, _"__ one of the drones sent back an image and a vid-feed." _ A moment's silence. _"I think this is __something you need to see."_

He didn't appreciate the arcane feeling that crept up on him at those words. "On my way."

He left his quarters and made his way to the elevator, entering it with Renalas right behind him.

"If we're picking up transmissions-." She trailed off. The gravity of this revelation wasn't lost to Kivark. He pressed the button, and the elevator ascended to the CIC deck.

"Our mission here was to find any trace of the race that created the Prometheus. And that trail lead us to that system. Exploration is now secondary. This mission just became paramount. Not just to us, but to the entire Hierarchy."

* * *

The elevator doors opened and Kivark walked up to the CO station overlooking the holo-platform.

The display of the galactic spiral vanished, and switched over to the image the drone sent over.

And at the sight, Kivark's mandibles twitched a fraction from bewilderment and surprise.

It was an image of a space-structure, cylindrical in shape, about 30km long, with spherical ends 10km in diameter. One end had a larger thruster system, held in place by scaffolding, propelling it outward from the primary. The other end had an extension in the center, a docking port most likely, and three long stripes hinged on the cylinder, stretching outward to the other end, which was locked into place by a, bearing system, of sorts.

It was something he had only seen in history class.

"Is that... A Nerrec-type space habitat?" he asked in mild shock. "A _moving _Nerrec-type habitat?"

"Most... probable, sir." The crewman replied. "It appears to have been heavily modified into a ...mobile colony ship. Some sections appear recent. According to the readings, the engine is a form of fission... rocket drive, I believe."

Kivark raised his brow-plates at that., turning to look at the image again. "Humm," he put a hand to his chin. "For now, just have the _Janis_ put one of the probes on a constant watch on it. Let me know if anything changes." He looked back at Renalas, "Anything on those transmissions?"

"Checking..."

"We've got something, sir!" Lokrin called out from his crew station. "According to the _Janis _probes, the bulk of the transmissions are centered at the third planet, and it's lagrange points. There are also some coming from the forth planet, but they are much more sporadic." A moment's silence. "Also, since entering the vicinity of the third planet, the probe has been picking up multiple high-frequency energy disruption signals,."

Kivark quirked a brow-plate at that. "Energy disruptions... starship weapons?"

"The readings certainly suggest so, sir. The readout matches those of discharging energy-beam weapons. It would seem we have stumbled onto a battle of some sort."

"With another species?" Kivark asked. "Or, is it a civil war?"

"Unknown, sir. The probe will need to get closer for that. I'll let you know when it has more data."

Kivark watched on the screen as the probe's images and vid-feeds formed a 3D holomodel of the third planet and its surrounding area. Initial readings pegged it as capable of supporting life, but it would require active scans to be certain. It's moon was a fair size and, phase locked in place. Scans indicated the lagrange points were littered with detritus and small asteroids, as well as an extrapolatory map of the site of the disruptions.

"Have the probes recover as much data as they can without being detected. That means _no _active scans." He then pointed to a grid that was filled with signatures, " Move probe 0-1 as close to the L5 point as you can. I want to see just what's going on, and to know what these things are."

Silence. "Uhh... It looks like Captain Mirrele already beat us to that, sir. The _Janis _has already directed the probe. We already have vid feeds."

Kivark quirked his brow-plate at that, making a note to himself to remind the asari captain about something called _protocol, _when he had a chance.

The galaxy map display shifted to a viewscreen, showing a reasonably-large sized battle. At least, by pre-Council race standards. About thirty to forty ships on both sides. The distance made them look like small models. they were engaged near an asteroid base over 12km tall and two 'arms' on its top that extended out to 8km in width.

And beside it...

Kivark blinked a few times."Renalas, What's that...construct, next to the asteroid base?"

She typed her console. The map zoomed in on a large, disk-shaped structure, built on a small, spherical center unit. A set of smaller, cone-shaped satellite arrays were lined up next to it, with the nearest just now finishing being positioned in front of it. To one side was another array, but it was damaged somehow. At this distance, it looked like it had been melted and warped. If the vid link was anything to go by, at least.

"Unknown, sir," she said. "It appears like a sort of solar energy array but..."

Kivark saw quick enough. "But it's not pointed at the primary," he finished. "Can you tell where it's facing?"

She typed away at the screen, going through the data already collected. "Based on its current angle, and taking into account local planetary rotation and revolution," she said, "its pointed right at the planet's moon." She didn't need to look at Kivark face to know what he was going to ask. "_Where _and _why_ exactly, I'm attempting to narrow down."

"Commander!" Lokrin called out. "Drone-06 has picked up three ships near its vicinity."

Kivark turned, alert and ready. "Is it's safety compromised?"

Lokrin checked, then let out a breath, "No. Their approach vector indicate that they're heading to the battle. Their just passing by the drone. It's hidden itself among some debris to further avoid the chances of detection." He turned in his chair to face the CIC."Commander, six's position puts it within the survey's drone's tightbeam range. Wit your permission, we could link the two, and probably get a live visual on those ships."

Kivark nodded,"Do it."

The image on the galaxy map display changed to show three ships, of relatively strange design. The first was a strange ship with two long... 'legs', for lack of a better term, sticking out from the front. It was colored white with red highlights and a pair of 'wings' with a matching pair of 'fins' - one on each side of the bridge tower. The second ship was similar to the first, but it lacked the 'wings' and 'fins', and had a split prow. Also unlike the first one, this ship was light blue, with dark blue highlights. And the final one, strangely, looked quite reminiscent of a turian ship, mixed with some asari touches here and there. It bore an elongated prow, and the design of it's 'wings' was quite like that of a turian cruiser, but added even more to the bird of prey design by the addition of of a set of white metal 'feathers.'

Kivark could admire the fragment of turian inspiration that must have existed in whoever designed the ship. Although whoever it was had a convoluted sense of 'style' that should not matter on battleships. No one in their right mind made _pink battleships_.

Hanger doors opened on all three ships, prompting a surprised look from Kivark. Most ships that size didn't build hangars as large as that.

But it was what _followed _that was the true surprise.

From the white, 'legged' ship, two shapes launched out. Several more flew from the blue ship, and finally, two more from the pink ship.

Shapes with an unmistakable profile.

The profile of a large, bipedal being.

Everyone stopped their tasks to view the images. Whispers broke out in place of speech. Kivark felt a wave of ice wash over him. "Renalas, zoom in on those. Get a visual on one."

The image on the galaxy map's projection screen zoomed in on one of the faded grey-colored shapes, dancing across the screen, showing a form that was unknown, yet, immediately recognizable.

A bipedal form.

_A Mobile Suit._

All form of noise, aside from breathing, ceased. All eyes were now fixed on the image the probe had taken.

Suddenly, the machines' color _shifted, _changing in an instant, revealing it's form completely. Weather or not this was some form of... stealth system being deactivated, no one knew. If it was, it was primitive beyond belief. A simple gray coloring would do little to effectively hide it against the backdrop of space. But that wasn't at the forefront of their minds at the moment.

The alien design was evident, as were the differences between it, and the Prometheus. Limbs and lower body colored white. Upper torso blue, lower torso red. A rifle in one hand, in the other... A shield. A actual, physical, arm-mounted shield. Minute details were harder to make out, but the V.I extrapolated what images it could not capture, showing it's head held a distinctly familiar shape, -two yellow "eyes", a mouthplate, a helm-like head, with a strange "V" fin crest above the "brow", and a pair of gold "horns" atop of it. Affixed to it's back was some form of areospace propulsion booster, a set of large stabilizing wings arching out from it. But the design was unmistakable.

The similar construction of the frame to the Prometheus was uncanny.

For a long time, everyone just stared at the image on the screen. Further on, in the background of the mobile suit, a pair of objects detached from the prow of the pink ship, moving forward. After a moment, they too suddenly shot forward to the battlefield.

There was silence, thick, cloying, as the entire bridge crew took in what they saw.

Kivark eventually broke the silence. "Renalas. Replay that, and freeze on the machine." She did so almost mechanically, as if on automatic. Within seconds, the image was frozen on the alien suit.

...

"That...," one of the operators said, finally breaking the silence. He motioned, pointing at the image. "Could this mean that we..."

The meaning behind his implied words spread like a virus.

...

Could they have actually_ found_ them?

Only opening _one_ relay and they already had found them?

Kivark, recovering quicker then the others, immediately set out to take control of the situation. "Eyes back to your stations." he called out, "Renalas, I want_ full_ control of the drone -I don't _care _what Mirelea says- I want it slaved to _this ship_. And have them recall every drone in that system. They're to halt _all_ current assignments and be poised for_ full_ coverage of that battle. That will take care of any time lag in transmission. Get them as _close_ as possible without the risk of detection. Have them sneak in using the debris for cover, if you have to. They are to record _every moment _that they can."

"Yes, sir." she gave a brisk salute and returned to her station.

"Commander," Jalis called out, "I've finished pin-pointing where the construct is aimed, sir. Its a base, military in design, at the moon's near side. There is also a number of ships departing from there."

Kivark tilted his head, and stared at the display. '_Why have it face a military base?' _He looked closer at the image**_._**_ 'Unless...__given how that battle is going... don't tell me,'_**_  
_**

He shook his head, a horrid premonition coming over him. '_It can't be... that they've... weaponized it? And **how**?'_**_  
_**

_'Just what **is **it?'  
_

"Keep watch on that...thing," he said, becoming evermore uneasy. "We'll leave the guess work scientists back -"

"Sir," Lokrin yelled, 'the drones are detecting high-level fission emissions, generating from the construct. It's spiking high. And _fast_."

"Zoom in. Put it on-screen." he said, not daring to skip a beat.

The drone focused in on the large satellites till it took up the viewscreen. On the display readout, the dish emitted an intense energy signature. Readings from the probes showed the thing nearly saturated with fission energy. Suddenly, from its center shot out a white beam that collided with the external mirror block. The beam was reflected on the block, refracting back as multiple, smaller yellow beams into the mirrors of the construct, the external block visually turning red hot.

_'What in-?'_

In a near instant came a large, intense beam, that raced through the battlefield and soon passed it, destroying anything and everything in it's path. Metal ignited and melted. Living matter violently combusted. In two minutes it reached the lunar vicinity and its target. Over half the reinforcements coming from the moon were wiped out, and in an instant, it impacted the moon. The military base in the crater was obliterated in seconds, leaving nothing but a large mushroom cloud that was visible for all to see, billowing outward.

* * *

No one on the CIC of the _Artimec_ could find the words to describe what they had just witnessed. A similar situation was taking place on the _Janis, _it's collictive crews of asari, turian, and salarian scientists completely stopping what they were doing. And Salarians _never _stopped working. The asari captain, Mirrele, was on the verge of having a seizure.

"Goddess have mercy..." she started. "Dalas!" she called out to the salarian on the comm station, "Get a link to the _Artimec, Right NOW!_ I want to know what the _hell I just saw!_"

The salarian jumped on the task, as Mirrele worked to keep the ship's crew from panicking any further, while trying to keep her own emotions from overwhelming her.

On the _Artimec_, it was largely the same. Mutterings and muted whispers of shock and disbelief.

"_Spirits, Preserve me..._" Renalas whispered, her calm finally breaking a bit.

In his chair, Lokrin looked like a krogan had just brained him hard over the head with a thermal pipe.

Jalis, who had been quiet for quite some time, was going over the data transmitted by the drone at a now-frantic pace.

Kivark just stood there, mandibles gaping, eyes wide, his brain working hard to process what he had just witnessed. "What..." he half mumbled.

He was screaming in his mind, unwilling to let any potential outburst add to the risk of instability that was permeating the CIC. His talons were gripping the guard-rail so hard, one would expect them to bend and break. Multiple emotions were vying for dominance

Confusion.

Trepidation.

Fear.

Awe.

Shaking his head hard, he pushed them all aside. He'd deal with them later. Right now, he had to think about the state of his ship. His mandibles closed back again, he turned...

"Renalas, go over the readings." Kivark said, keeping himself calm and in control. If the CO lost it, then everyone else would pretty much lose it as well. But the anxiety, no matter how hard he tried to keep it out, lingered in his voice. "Find out just_ what that was_. I want a _full_ debrief as soon as possible. Understood, lieutenant?"

No response.

Kivark turned to see his XO in a trance, still staring at the screen.

"Lieutenant!"

Renalas snapped out of it quickly, turning to the Commander. "Sir!" she stood in attention.

"Did you hear everything I said?"

"Yes, sir." She didn't move.

"Then _why the hell_ are you just standing there?!" he half-bellowed, "Link with the _Janis _probes - _all_ of them. Coordinate with the civies -I'm sure they'll want answers as much as we do."

"Understood, sir"

"And see if you can have the probes access whatever local net they have. That's our best chance at finding out just _what the hell_ is happening in that system."

"Lokrin!" he called out, jarring the other turian out of his stupor. "Send orders to the _Janis._ Tell them to **_forget _**recovering those probes. We'll let them sit here for a while and recover as much data as the can, under automated guidance. _U__nder no_ _circumstances _are they to even _**consider** _going into that system to get them back."

Lokrin just gulped. "Yes, sir."

"Jalis!" The other turian looked like he was going to have a stroke, he was working so fast. "Keep an eye on those transmissions. I want to know about any and _all _comm traffic in that system.'

Jalis nodded "Y-yes, sir."

In two minutes, he'd just watched a _pre-contact race_ surpass the destructive power of the _Destiny Ascension -_ the largest and most powerful ship in existence.

Ten years ago, his people threw age-old conventional military science out the airlock with the Proto-Hyron.

Now, he'd just watched another race, a pre-contact race, do the same to _them._

_'With technology like that... It would have torn the Citadel fleet in two. A pre-contact race would have **decimated **us in **one damned shot.** If they had been fighting_ **_us_**_...'__  
_He didn't want to even _think _of what would happen if a weapon like that was used against them.

He looked at the galaxy map display. Already, the weapon's now warped, destroyed mirror block was being moved away, to be replaced.

_'What in... what the hells__ could possibly justify this... this **nightmare** level of warfare?'_

* * *

_PAGE BREAK (0) (Two hours later)  
_

* * *

Since that display of the weapon's extreme power, the entire exploratory flotilla had been working on figuring out exactly what, in the Name of the Spirit of Palaven, it was that they saw.

Thankfully, the Spirit of Fortune had stood with them today, as among the civilian researchers on the _Jalis, _there a researcher that had minored in advanced astral, thermonuclear and particle physics. A salarian.

Of course it was a salarian.

Mirrele could do things right when she followed proper protocol. And, although she had given them a fair amount of grief, she'd allowed him to bring the salarian aboard to brief the _Artimec _and _Jalis _crews on what they'd seen.

"What we saw," the salarian, Dr. Gorven, explained, " was essentially, in the most basic of terms, a massive, directed gamma-energy _laser_." A diagram of the weapon appeared on screen at the far wall of the briefing room, the assorted CIC crews of the ships watching with muttered whisperings at this information. To his credit, he was doing quite well, for someone who was explaining how a _doomsday weapon _worked.

Then again, salarians _majored_ in that sort of thing.

"The weapon harnesses and channels the gamma radiation caused by a controlled fission explosion into a tight, coherent energy beam. This beam is then directed to an external mirror block, which redirects it back to the mirrors on the weapon proper, which quickly refracts them, and focuses them into the giant beam of gamma energy we witnessed today." She typed the display console. "From what we've seen, a gamma energy weapon of such devastating capability, could wipe out virtually all life on an _entire_ planet. Most likely with just the first shot."

"Great Spirits," Kivark hissed. Mirrele , having come over herself, looked over at him. "Such a weapon..." He muttered, "our entire stock of WMD's pales in comparison to it. It single-handedly puts _every_ known orbital defense system we have to _shame _in comparison."

"We've gone over data. Spectrometer readings tells us that the weapon was fired once before," Gorven motioned to a overview map, with a color-coded representation of the spectrometer readings. He pointed to a long trail of bright red across the opaque-blue backdrop of the map. "The beam leaves a prominent trail of gamma rays that slowly permeate throughout its path. We've also found multiple radiation signatures matching those of low-yield fission warheads," she explained, as several red dots appeared over the grid, near the orbital colonies. "Many of in near vicinity of those space colonies. While the _others_ emanated on the path of the beam."

Lokrin's head snapped up."Those ships that were hit by the beam carried nukes." It wasn't a question.

Gorven nodded, "Correct. And also worth noting, is that the signatures near the habitats are the _eldest_ of them all."

_Now _the pieces were starting to fall into place. "So one side launched a nuclear assault... and the other retaliated with that, giant weapon. Escalation." said Renalas.

"Yes," Gorven said. "And judging from the readings, it may be about to get worse."

Silence flooded the room. "Why is that?" Renalas asked.

"Because now, the weapon is angled at the planet," he responded.

The silence persisted, though now broken by mutterings and whispered gasps. The gravity of the situation sinking in quickly. They were about to witness something that no one in their right mind wanted to see, nor wish upon another race.

The death of a planet. And a species.

Kivark felt a lead weight drop in his gut. He sighed mournfully. _'so, that's it,'_ he thought. _'In less then a galactic day. these people will practically destroy themselves, and take whatever secrets, and potential, they have with them.'_

For the first time since the meeting started, Kivark spoke directly to Gorven.

"...Do we at least know the _reasons _for _why _they started this war? What could possibly justify such _extreme_ measures of warfare?"

Gorven turned his head away from his eyes for a moment, his face looking unsure. _Very _unusual for a salarian. He coughed nervously, as if just clearing his throat.

At this point, Kivark felt a strange, rather uncomfortable itch in the back of his neck. Almost a nervous response of his own.

Gorven glanced at Mirrele, who nodded slightly, though with a bit of apprehension. then, finally, he answered, "Yes. Once we finished constructing a translation algorithm, it became easy to uncover information on these people, and their war."

"You finished a translation program so soon?" Jalis spoke up, "how did you get enough language samples?"

Gorven gave a quick smile. "Actually, you did most of the work. We already had a head start thanks to your scientists work on the Prometheus, which you were kind enough to share," he explained. "The text files, and few audio files, extracted from the Prometheus gave us a base sample to work with. The language used in them, it turns out, is one of the more common dialects used by these people, and once we linked with their local internet, we were able complete the program. We're already working on their other languages, but since this dialect already has translations applicable for them, it shouldn't take long to do. Also, it seems that the cataloging of relevant data is not that different then modern standards, so finding the relevant information was a bit easier to do."

Kivark sighed. "That is interesting," he said, intent on returning to the point, "but, with all due respect, What did you learn from the translations about the _conflict_ and it's _source?_"

Another uncomfortable silence, along with the salarian blinking once or twice, glancing nervously from one side of the room to the other.

That was _not _a good sign. Especially not from a salarian.

At last, he spoke. "As far as we can tell... Well, to start, the people of this world refer to themselves as 'Human'. And this planet is referred to by them as 'Earth'. he began. "According to what we've been able to piece together..." A hesitation. It was _never _good when salarians hesitated.

"This war seems to have arisen over a conflict between the humans who have undergone in-uetero genetic enhancement... and those who have not."

Kivark felt his train of thought go through a violent halt. Mirrele groaned loudly, since she had heard the report first, but still hadn't gotten used to the implication of it. Jalis bore a look of disgust and stupor. Lokrin looked like he'd just heard the punch line of a horrid joke. Renalas' mandibles parted wide in surprise and shock. The situation was mirrored across the room.

"..._What?_" Renalas asked, voicing what _everyone_ was asking themselves, yet still too shocked to do so.

"What's so horrible about that?" Lokrin asked in mild confusion, making it obvious that he didn't fully understand what the doctor meant. Everyone just stared at him. "It's not unheard of for budding civilizations to be apprehensive to genetic engineering at first. Even today, there are those who shun the concept, due to some personal, or spiritual beliefs," he said.

"Yes," said, "but _these_ people went beyond simple riots and protests." he looked downward, as if becoming slightly uncomfortable, "People became jealous or envious of how superior those who received gene enhancement were... to the point were they would... well, would just gun them down in public."

That was the last straw. Renalas nearly blanched at the news. Lokrin looked like he _dearly _wanted to take back his question. Jalis just silently shook his head in disapproval. Kivark kept his shock under control as best he could, though the intensity of how hard he now gripped the handrails of his pre-fab seat, which threatened to splinter in his grip, betrayed his outward expression.

"And, apparently," he went on, "those who had the enhancements grew arrogant, and flaunted their superiority. Naturally, this only added to the growing tension." He looked at the weapon still displayed on the screen. "They've even gone as far as to _discriminate_ themselves with titles: those that have received gene enhancement call themselves 'Coordinators' and the others, who have rejected the prospect, are 'Naturals'."

"Didn't they try to make peace?" Kivark asked, "Try to _placate_ the tension, _before_ it escalated to this?"

"They did," Gorven said solemnly."About two of their solar years ago, a peace conference was being held at one of the lunar cities. Representatives from the planet's sponsor nations, as well as the leadership of their 'United Nations' -the international organization that facilitated cooperation on the planet - and a 'Siegel Clyne' -the then-Chairman of the supreme Council that governs the 'PLANTs', the orbital colonies where the enhanced humans migrated to- were all gathering to try to end the hostilities." He once again looked down at the floor. " But a terrorist bombing ruined all hope for peace. Everyone but the 'PLANT' Chairman, Clyne, was killed."

It seemed like an _endless_ cycle to Kivark. The more _answers_ he got, The more_ questions_ he formed in his head. It was beginning to get to him. He wanted nothing more then to punch something as hard as he possibly could. Hell, he'd tackle a krogan and punch it out with his bare hands at this point.

Thankfully, he was spared any further agony when the helmsmen came on the intercoms.

"_Apologies for disturbing the meeting, sir."_ Flight Lieutenant Barakus said,_ But this requires your immediate attention. It's about the conflict."_

Kivark sighed at the inevitable outcome of that battle, thankful that the briefing has spared the majority of his crew having to watch the death of a race. Although, the atmosphere in the room had gone cold, awaiting the fateful report with bated breath. "The weapon?" he asked dutifully. Barakus was never one for tact, so he would just state the report and get it over with, quick, clean, and painless.

_"Sir. The weapon has been completely destroyed."_

_...  
_

Silence flooded the room. No one could find the words with to voice their shock at the sudden _very _unexpected announcement.

_"What?__"_ Kivark hissed, speaking rather slowly, shock all to evident in his voice, a small crack had formed in his chair's arm under his grip. Next to him, Mirrele shared his response, though not as controlled as him, tapping her comm and demanding reports from the _Janis. _

All around the briefing room, the scene was repeated, as the entire room burst out in questioning voices, with the pitch and tone gradually rising so as to be heard over the ever-growing chorus of never-ending questions. The turian crew tried their best to quell the chaos of the salarians and asari scholars as they repeatedly asked to know answers to things that the turians knew nothing about. Many gathered around Doctor Gorvan, asking more questions then even the salarian could answer. Others grouped around the senior staff, some asking questions, some demanding answers. None were responded to.

"Enough!" Kivark's voice suddenly boomed throughout the room, silencing the slew of confused questions. Satisfied that order had somewhat been restored, Kivark turned his attention back to the comm."Alright, Flight Lieutenant. From the _top,_" he asked, working out any strain in his voice. "What happened?"

"_Just as I said, sir," _Barakus responded, _"The weapon h__as been completely destroyed, sir. It managed to get off a partial shot, before an uncontrolled nuclear explosion took place at its core, causing it to collapse on itself, and implode. And also, that asteroid base that was next to it initiated what looks like a self-destruct protocol. It went up just about the same time as the weapon did."_

"We're getting the same report here," Mirrele said, gesturing to her omni-tool. "They really _did _it, then. Goddess, they actually_ fired_ that thing on their own planet."

"Well, _tried_ to, at least," Lokrin quipped. "That's _good_, right?"

"That depends." Kivark said, turning back to the comm. "What about the ships? Are they still fighting?

_"Negative, sir. T__he fighting has stopped, and t__heir comms have gone silent, so—wait,"_ Barakus stopped, staying silent for several moments._ "There's a new, open broadcast being transmitted on every channel. It's unencrypted."  
_

Kirvark turned back to Gorven,"Is that translation program you used capable of running seamless real-time, yet?" Gorven turned to look at Kivark. "Oh, yes - it can." he replied. Kivark nodded, "Good. Pass the translation program over to the computer."

"Right."

"Barakus, Put the broadcast on the speakers. "

Within moments, the sounds of the transmission entered the briefing room. At first, the language was unintelligible to them, but as Gorvan linked up the translation program to the computers, the sounds became words.

"_...orces and the Earth Forces in the area," _a female, distinctly asari-like voice spoke._ "The PLANTs are currently making preparations for truce talks with the Earth Forces and the PLANT sponsor nations. Following this, the PLANTs Provisional Supreme Council will request that the Earth Forces stop all combat activities in restricted areas."_

As the broadcast continued, the assorted members of the ship crews conversed amongst themselves at the rather unexpected turn of events. Renalas walked over to Kivark. **_  
_**

"Well. I guess this means their war is over," she said.

"Hell of a thing, though," Mirrele quipped in. "One minute, they're about to blow each other away, the next, they're calling a truce and making peace. And all it took was blowing up a giant doomsday weapon. I mean, isn't _that _just a-"

She realized Kivark hadn't so much as reacted to either of them. He just stood there, bringing his talons to his chin. "Humm..."

"Now what's wrong?" Mirrele asked. Kivark seemingly ignored her. "Dr. Gorven," he called out, "compile everything you and your team has gathered. I want a datapacket put together with everything we've learned on these 'humans'." The salarian nodded.

"Hey!" Mirrele asked again, a more irritated tone in her voice. "What's wrong now?"

Kivark gave her a stern glare. "What do you think the Council will think about all this?"

Mirrele nearly blanched, the realization that she'd forgotten all _about _that hitting her. In response to that realization, there was only one thing she could think of to say.

"Oh, _Goddess._"

* * *

_PAGE BREAK (0)_

* * *

_October 4, __Cosmic Era 71 (__2155 CE)_

_Citadel Tower / Council Chambers. (One week later)  
_

* * *

The following week of the expedition, the data recovered by teams on the _Janis _were brought before the members of the Citadel Government, with only the highest members even knowing what had happened. Temora had been in the middle of a meeting with the elder Matriarchs of the Asari Government when she got the message delivered from Tevos, who had brought it in on the verge of a fit, having seen it herself before handing it in. It was from Alisis Dravin - the current Councilor for the turians - about how the "secondary objective" of the _Artimec_ expedition had been achieved, and that he wanted to call a meeting over it.

As well as some images that nearly sent Temora into a fit herself. She controlled it much better then her protege, of course.

Within minutes of the message being sent, the Councilors had gathered to discuss the data recovered from the exploration. However, unlike most meetings, this time, none of the Councilors knew where to start.

Eventually, Galis Haros, the salarian Councilor, replacing Desor after his retirement four years ago, decided to take the initiative. "Does _anyone _besides ourselves know about this?"

"Our respective government leaders do," Alisis Dravin responded, "but they're keeping it quiet, strictly high-level. No one in my government besides Primarch Quintis, and the very top officals of the Hierarchy, are aware of the data."

"The same is true of me," Temora said, voice still level, despite all she had just seen. "Only the eldest of the Matriarchs have any knowledge of this."

"The same goes for the Dalatrasses of the Union," Galis said. "Only Head Dalatrass Joras and her inner cabinet have been made aware of this. I assure you, there is no danger of this being leaked. And, _should_ something somehow happen, she has a personal team of STG agents on call, to be briefed and deployed in case of a last resort."

Alisis nodded in agreement. Temora just cocked her head. "I doubt that will be necessary, Councilor Galis."

"Do you _really _want to take chances with something like _this?_"

Temora blinked once, then sighed, "No," she said. She turned to the matter at hand, looking at the panel of images and vid recordings displayed in front of them on the large holoscreen.

Once again, a silence.

"Well," Galis started, "I'm not really quite sure _what_ it was I was expecting the creators of the mobile suit to be like. I figured that at the least, they would have something that would astound us by now." He shook his head, as if in response to a horrid joke.

"Well, damned if I wasn't right. " He pulled up the images of the superweapon - GENESIS, it was called, according to the intercepted comms from the battle. "I've heard of races going to extreme lengths over _meaningless _reasons before." He brought up the vids of GENESIS firing, and of the crater left behind on the moon. "But _this?_!"

"While atrocious, it is not unprecedented for a pre-contact civilization to utilize nuclear weapons in their internal wars." Temora interjected, " But of this magnitude... and purposely attempt to destroy ones own_ homeworld_..." she shook her head sadly. "Goddess."

"You're that surprised?" Alisis asked, "The Unification War didn't leave planets free from nuclear fire," he said. "If the previous administration did not take a stance of neutrality when it did, Palaven itself would've been a target for the colonists. Homeworld or not."

"From what I know of turian history, _your_ ancestors never went to such extremes." Galis pointed out, "And, at the time, the reasoning behind your war was_ far_ more practical in hindsight compared to theirs. I could understand where it stemmed from."

"Yes," Alisis said, "But that was roughly the same. Our colonies became more and more xenophobic and distrustful to each-other."

"Because you were separated by multiple systems," Galis countered, "Had the colonies been governed like they are now, with close relations and contacts, that would not have happened. These people do not _have _that problem, an yet, they go to such unreasonable levels of warfare, all because of rudimentary_ gene enhancement__?_." He turned back to the screen. "And this 'GENESIS' weapon... " he shook his head, "for a race confined to their home system, developing such a weapon should be astronomically-"

"Yet there it is." Alisis interrupted, pointing to the twin blips on the system's map, "And they've made TWO. To be able to do that with nothing but the materials in their home system... if such a weapon were to be released to the greater galaxy..." He let the thought hang in the air, the implications being far too horrid.

"For the time being," Alisis continued, "we can _not_ let the existence of this race - these "humans"- be made public. If word gets out, people will flock to see what the creators of the MS are like, and their reactions will certainly_ not_ be pleasant." He turned back to Temora, " And also, less...'noble' individuals, will be interested to learn more on this superweapon of theirs. Which is the _last _thing we want."

"Agreed." Galis said from his stand, "The chaos that would come if people found out that THESE self-destructive, xenophobic, war-mongering troglodytes were the ones we owe the next step of the modern age to... It would be felt across the galaxy for generations to come. If possible, I recommend avoiding _all _contact with them. We do _not _need _another_ Rachni War, or Krogan Rebellion breaking out on account of these socially barbaric _apes_. "

"Now, wait a moment," Temora said in their defense. "Not _all_ is lost for these humans." Galis looked at her questioningly, while Alisis shook his head. She tapped her console.

"According to the reports, there was a _third_ faction that intervened in the final battle." She tapped the interface, bringing up a blurry image of three ships - A strange "legged" white ship with red highlight markings, a light-blue ship that was similar to the first, but with a split prow and darker-blue highlights, and lastly, a strangely pink-colored ship that looked quite like a crossed turian-asari design.

"With this group, they didn't choose sides," she gestured, "but instead focused on bringing an end to the war with minimal casualties. And it was _their_ actions that lead to the destruction of the weapon, before it could fire on the planet." The image on-screen shifted to show the GENESIS weapon exploding, along with the asteroid base that appeared to be the base of operations for one of the main factions.

Alisis sighed and nodded, although his expression didn't change. "Indeed," he admitted, "an admirable and impressive feat." He turned to face Temora, "But, it does not change the fact that, given the circumstances, contact is best _avoided_ with them."

"Oh, I am not repudiating that." Temora said, her hands up in a mock defensive gesture. "Far from it. I _do _believe that keeping the humans isolated is not only in the best interest for the galaxy, but for them as well. I am simply trying to convey that they are_ not_ as barbaric as Councilor Galis believes them to be." She said, directing a look at her salarian colleague.

Galis just crossed his arms. *humph* "The selfless action of a_ small group_ does not entail the same for the _whole_ of the species," he responded, "Especally when a race is willing to go to such lengths over simplistic gene enhancement."

"If I remember correctly, your own species had certain issues with genetic engineering, did they not?" Alisis questioned.

Galis blinked once at the remark. "_That_ was a different matter entirely. In an effort to make ourselves more efficient and beneficial to our society, we turned to genetic determinism. And though it did indeed do just that, we learned that the excessive manipulation of the genomes would inevitably lead to full sterility. If we did not undo the alterations when we did..." he turned to look at the datafeed. "Besides, that was in our infancy, before our government found the asari and formed the Council. And it was _from _those... mistakes, that the modern genetic laws for Council space were formed."

"According to the data retrieved from their local, planet-wide internet, and the researchers observations on the data, the humans who received gene enchantments are beginning to suffer a decline of birth rate." Alisis said. looking over the data himself.

"I _know_ where your going with this," Galis retorted, "I have read the reports. The human's understanding of genetic engineering is both crude and insufficient. The fact that they are becoming sterile simply because of what is essentially nothing more then mere polishing of their DNA is proof of that. Besides, it's not as though we Salarians waged_ war_ over it."

"Regardless of that, you still cannot deny the potential these people have. If they could be properly uplifted, they could be a driving force in society."

"Do you really think that a race that reacts so violently to it's own people would be a good addition to the galaxy at large, Councilor Temora?" Alisis asked, a hint of worry in his flanged voice. "Think about what happened with the krogan, and the yhag."

"Indeed," Galis injected, "Do you honestly think that people that go to such extreme, destructive lengths over simple, basic _gene alterations _could _possibly_ live a peaceful co-existence among the rest of the galaxy? That would be as likely to work as a genophage cure would be in uniting the krogan in a peaceful, lasting, solvent government would. Which is to say, _won't_."

"Every race has made mistakes before. Mine included." Temora said. "But it is from making such mistakes that we learn and evolve as a species. The invention of the mobile suit is telling proof that they have an amazing potential for growth and advancement."

She cast another glance at the GENESIS weapon.

"Nevertheless, I do agree that further observation _is_ required before we can consider making contact." She looked at Galis."Covertly done, of course." Galis nodded at this compromise.

"Well, until then," Alisis said, "I motion to officially quarantine Systems 426 and 427, until such a time that first contact can be safely made."

"Agreed." Temora and Galis both said. "I suppose that concludes our business for today." Temora said to the others.

"Meeting adjourned."

* * *

_PAGE BREAK (0)  
_

* * *

___October 19, Cosmic Era 71. (2155 CE)_

_Apien Crest / Trebia System / Palaven._

* * *

But some time after this, light years away, on the turian homeworld, within one of the many private homes in the government district of Cipritine, a similar meeting took place, over the very same data.

Although, not with the same authority.

"...Are you sure this is accurate?"

_"Yes."_ came the somewhat growled reply. _"It's exactly what you asked for. Every bit of it."_

The turian who had spoken first turned to face the image on his desk. His skin was charcoal with a slight reddish tint, and black facial paint that arched over his brows and down his mandibles, highlighted by the sun setting outside his window. He wore gray clothes with red highlight trim markings. Looking at his contact, he gave a smirk.

"You sound upset."

_"I've had to do some things for my people I'm not proud of, sir."_ the other turian said,_ "But stealing classified data of this magnitude from __**my own government**-"_

"I know your reservations," the first turian said, his voice oily slick, by turian standards, "But you know that sometimes you have to act outside of the lines of the law to protect society. That's why black ops like the Blackwatch, the STG, the Huntress commandos, and the Spectres exist."

_"They are **sanctioned **by **their** governments! We **aren't,**__" _the voice responded, rather angrily. _"I know what we've done has kept Palaven safe in the long run, but... There is a line between helping them and endangering their future, and more then once, I've felt like we've crossed it."  
_

"I understand. And I know how you feel." The turian said, "But our government is too interdependent on the Council, to the point of losing our own independence. The Proto-Hyron was the first step in breaking those chains." The turian turned back to the image. "Now we have to do the rest. We need to do for our people what they cannot do themselves - Defend the interests of the Turian Hierarchy. _N__ot_ the agendas of the other races, or the Council."

Silence.

The turian, Dalitus Nivarak, picked up a datapad from the desk. "The Council will move to quarantine the system these 'humans' live in. The first step will be constructing an observation post on the systems edge. I want the Turian's to be the ones to build it."

_"We can't cut the other races out like that withou-"_

"I won't have them cut out. Just in a position where _we _are in a position of power on it when it's built."

_"And then?"_

"I'll let you know after I talk it over with the others. For now, return to your post. Don't let _anyone _suspect that you might have leaked information about this."

The image faded. Dalitus turned to his desk, and switched on a private terminal, disconnected from the network, linked his omni-tool to it, and opened the data package.

He felt a presence. He spun around, pulled the pistol from under his table-

and promptly lowered it at the sight of the familiar face. He sighed, putting the pistol down."Desolas."

The other turian gave a smirk, stepping out fully from the shadows. "You would have shot me, wouldn't you?"

"Spirits, don't do that! especially not after sending me data like this," he hissed. "How did you even get in?"

"Old "Ghost" training, from back in my starting days, training in the 26th Armiger Legion."

Dalitus sighed. Desolas' preferred training had been in infiltrator specialization. Of course, right now he was being far to overzealous in keeping their little meeting secret.

_'Note to self: Upgrade home security system.'_

_'P.S.: Fire estate guard.'_

"So, I assume you've seen everything in the datapacket?" he asked.

"I have," Dalitus replied. "You were right. It's extraordinary."

"If that's your opinion, I'm sure that the entire thing would have been even better."

Dalitus suddenly gave a look of pure ice cold malice. "What?" he asked.

"That's actually the reason for this little housecall," Desolas said, moving to the chair near the table.

"I found out that the data packed I passed to our little contact was... Incomplete. This is approximately one third of the entire thing."

Dalitus stalked up to Desolas, obviously angry. "And _how _did that happen? You told me you had the entire packet."

"I had _that _entire packet. I was unaware of the breaking of the original data packet, to ensure security on the matter. The Primarch is taking this most seriously."

"You blame him?" Dalitus said. He cast another glare at Desolas. "Well, for what we have, it's unbelievable."

"I figured you would think so." Desolas responded, now sounding smug. "I assume you want to talk with the others?"

"I do. You can send the message to them. We have much to talk about, and a relatively short time in which to do so."

"And what do you plan to do?" Desolas questioned. "What is it that you intend at this point? Ensure that the humans stay in quarantine? Work to keep their growth contained if contact is made?"

Dalitus said nothing. Instead, he turned back to his computer terminal, bringing up the image of the gamma-energy superweapon. "At this point, something more drastic may be necessary."

Desolas blinked. "And that means...?"

I'll tell you at the meeting," he said, "_After _you get the _rest _of the data. Otherwise, this meeting will have no point. Now, if your done trespassing, would you please be so kind as to take care of _your _loose ends, and then get the others together?" Desolas gave a decidedly malice-filled glare, before moving to the door.

"So much to talk about," Dalitus muttered, tapping an icon on the terminal, "so little time to do it."

He stared at the image on the screen: a still of two mobile suits engaged in ranged battle. One with a white body, black torso, and large blue wing-like binders on its back, and the other a grayish-blue, with a circular pack armed with some _wonderous_ form of multiple remote gun pods.

"Yes," he muttered again, "So little time."

* * *

**And here is the first part of the beginning arc. Next up, the first MS combat scenes.**


End file.
